Those Bloody Tears

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty Five

I pulled the collar of my hoodie a little higher to bite off the early morning chill. I couldn’t believe I was standing there on the curb, waiting for Zero my older dealer, hours before Axel’s funeral. I kept asking myself whether I really wanted to do this or not.

I had tried so hard to get clean. Did I really want to throw it all away? I gave a brisk nod and watched for Zero. I saw his twiggy black figure pop over the horizon. He was a little more tatted up since the last time I saw him.

“My brotha, how has fame been treatin’ ya?” Zero asked throwing his arm out loosely, catching my hand.

“Like 1 Hundekacke,” I mumbled dropping my hand and shoving them both deep into the pockets of my sweatshirt.

“Yo, I speak Ghetto, my brotha, not fancy white boy talk,” Zero said shaking his head.

“It’s German. I guess you haven’t heard about Axel?” I asked my voice dead.

I shifted my weight uneasily, seriously having second thoughts about this. But my body was craving for it in the worst way.

“Heard about him, I’m the one who gave it to him.”

I felt sick. I wasn’t sure if I needed it so bad now. “How can you be so blasé?” I asked in disbelief.

“White boy what I tell you? I don’t speak fancy white boy talk. All I know is I know what he’s into now, ‘cause I’m the one who is supplyin’.”

“Oh, so you don’t know.. Zero, he OD’d last week. Today is his funeral,” I muttered to my boots.

“No kiddin? I knew it didn’t feel right sellin’ to him because he had a wild look in his eyes. I never saw a white boy look so crazy. I was almost afraid not to give the H to him,” he shook his head obviously lost in the memory.

“Yeah, well what do you have for me today?” I asked pushing my hands further into my hoodie pocket causing it to sag.

“White boy you already look like you’re tweakin’. I’ve got the usual junk.”

“I’m not. Just having second thoughts. It was so hard to get clean,” I answered honestly, to my boots again.

“You know I gots ta pay the bills, you goin’ to buy or not?” he asked stepping back looking agitated.

He was dealer first, human being last. “Yeah, I’ll buy. Listen you can’t tell anybody that you saw me, okay?”

“Of course, Mr. Celebrity.”

He handed me the junk and we parted ways.

I went home and changed before Axel’s funeral and brought my goody bag with me. I was too afraid to touch the stuff alone. I needed to wait until there was someone around. Someone to find me just in case.

I pushed through the gathering crowd of mourners and went straight to the bathroom, junk in my pocket. All of the stalls- yeah, stalls, swanky right? –were wide open except for one. It was slightly cracked. I walked up to it and pushed it open. My eyes went wide when I realized I was not alone in the bathroom.

Andy was on his knees in front of the toilet with his arms wrapped around him at the waist, shaking.

Without thinking I jerked him up and turned him to face me. “Andy. What. Were. You. Doing.”

He looked up at me with guilty, horror struck eyes, but said nothing.

“Andy, please answer me,” I begged.