When I walk back into the living room Olivia's pulling a dirty needle from her toe. Some people like it in the arm, some between the toes, some just put it in there penises. Olivia doesn't have a penis and doesn't want those track marks down her arms so she uses the toe method. I shouldn't have let her stay. Now she will be zoned out in my house for hours. Great. I can't leave her here and go anywhere. Not that I don't trust her specifically; I just don't trust anyone anymore. "So, how's the juice?" I ask staring at her. She slowly looks up at me and smiles. I know her voice is gone, as are her motor skills but I can't help but try to get a response other than a smile. I sit on the floor beside her and put my hand on hers. Next time I'm going to tell her sorry, but no. I can't be dealing with all of these memories and feelings. It's been twenty years. I can't go back in time to change what happened so there is no use in reminiscing. I watch the tv and I feel her hand start to pull away. I look over thinking her motor skills are back. No chance. She is just falling out. I get up and grab my blanket off my bed. I walk back, lay down and throw half the blanket over her. I forgot how good it felt to lay beside someone. No matter who it is.
After a few minutes I got very comfortable and pushed my body against hers for warmth. A few moments went by before I got warm. Soon the light and street noise outside faded away with everything else on the planet and restful sleep found me, finally. Olivia was still sleeping when I woke up, so I just stayed laying beside her. Why leave? It's just so warm next to her body. Heat radiating off of skin that is showing through her ripped clothes. I hear the tv say that we have a new president of the united states. Barrak Obama? Isn't the the black guy that ran? I thought that was a joke. Well good for him. I hope he doesn't get shot. I have to tell O. I shake her and she slurs even in slumber. Mumbles of no's and let me go's leave her lips. I get tired of fighting her and just leave her go. What's the worst that can happen. She's not dead on my floor so why should I care. I stand up and walk into the dining room. I find my Mickey Mouse clock on the dirty green wall. The clock reads six forty-seven in the afternoon. The shelters stop taking people in at seven and she won't wake up. Looks like I either have to make her sleep on the steps outside or let her sleep here. The steps would be a smarter decision, but she has been here all day and didn't cause any problems. Maybe it'll be ok just for one night to let her stay here.I sit at the scuffed wooden dining table mulling over my decision. It really can't be that bad to let her stay. I'll just take inventory on all my juice and powder. I wouldn't put stealing it past anybody. Good money involved with it, if you don't waste it all in your own body. Somehow I think Olivia would just tap it all. I should go stand outside so everyone knows I'm re-uped, but with O here I'm just going to stay. What's one night going to do to my money. I barely get enough as it is. It would be they equivalent as buying a pack of smokes. With that, I remember I have a pack and light one. I try to keep calm and smoke my cigarette, but I haven't been calm in years. I change the tv channel to late night cartoons. They start in two hours, but I could stare at something till then. Colorful blobs change form in front of my eyes and sing and talk. Crummy kids cartoons; never really liked them. I only remember liking "the chicken hawk", so small; yet so confident and brave. I put my head on my forearms and began to stare at the tv. Not watching anything at all, just looking. My stomach gurggles, reminding me I even have a stomach. I get up and look in the fridge, nothing. I look in the cupboards in the kitchen; still nothing, really. I find an old ripped up pack of ramon noodles under the sink. How they came to be there is a mystery, but I am starving, so I eat them. I don't add water or cook them. I simply open the seasoning packet and dump it into the bag. Then I crunch up the noodles and eat them. A lot of noodles came out of the bag when I shook the seasoning all around, but it will do. Even this horrible meal is a banquet. The dry noodles that may give you worms was the turkey of my meal, the beef seasoning, the stuffing.
I slide one piece of noodle into my mouth. It's a flavor explosion. The powder on the noodles burns the surface of my tongue, but I love it. I can taste chicken. I finish the noodle bits quickly and throw the plastic wrapper across the kitchen. I look at my kitchen, for the first time in years I really, look at my kitchen. The trash that is piled up half way across the room. The dirty counter-tops. A cockroach scurries across the floor and crawls under the unused oven. My life is a hell hole; and I have no-one to blame, but myself. Sure I could go off and pass the blame onto many people. But in the end, who really cares what I think? I blew that chance years and years ago. Got into selling, got my girlfriend addicted, kept selling it to her. Now look at her. She use to be beautiful and strong. Now she lets people walk all over her just to get what she wants. What I made her want. Her horrid life is also my fault. My parents won't talk to me, haven't in years. I don't even know if they are still alive and healthy. The last time I saw my sister she didn't even recegnize me. She tried to sleep with me for crack. I know what I should do, but wether or not I have the personal strength to do it is a mystery. I have to end this. All of it.
I go back to the couch and sit down. After a few seconds of antaginizing silence I put my head between my hands and squeeze. Finally, I stand in a rage. I can't take sitting here anymore. I run to my stash and grab a jar of juice. I pick up O's dirty needle and sit it under the flame of my lighter. It's not exactly clean but it is at least cleaner than it was. I fill the ampule to the 10 mL line. I just sit and stare at the ampule for a minute. After a minute of comtemplating I just stab it into my vein. The urgency startles me but the feeling of pain is a tremendous relief. At least pain is not gone. I slowly squeeze the plunger and watch the liquid disappear into my skin. At first it burnt worse than anything I had ever felt before. Then as it slowly numbed itself, the best feeling I can ever remember having appeared before me. It was pure ecstasy. For the first time in a long, long time I feel like I am happy. I know soon I will be sick and sadder at myself than ever, but for now. I am in bliss.
