Junk Love.

twenty-eight.

Everyone says don't try drugs. What they should have said is don't try drugs again. The relapse is always more difficult. No one warns an addict about that until it's too late.

Idle experiments in High School gave way to Mel's desire to escape her hometown. She didn't start on the streets in the city. After her Father helped with first month's rent to a one bedroom studio apartment she found a job at a convenience store in Chinatown.

It wasn't the best job or neighborhood but she was on her own. Free. Until she wasn't. Along came Dalton and the little lines of powder he spread on the bathroom sink whenever she found the nerve to fight back.

After relapsing she heaved inward like a dying star. When Dalton left her she found herself homeless and so hopeless she didn't have the presence of mind to call her Father before it was too late. She didn't hear about his death until a month after the wake. The relapse more than the start stole her soul. A devil at the crossroads patiently waiting for her to deal in empty promises of "just one more please".

Had a large sum of money been graced into her guitar case Mel wouldn't have thought twice about blowing it all on her worst habit. A decent supply of smack and speed to make it through the winter was her sole concentration for years. Now the opportunity is practically dropped in her lap.

Through domestic abuse, or the loss of her closest friends, Mel can maintain a poker face so expertly one might believe it to be a mask instead of her actual face. Presented with the responsibilities of a hefty inheritance causes her to fold like a Raggedy Anne Doll.

Initially blowing a crisp fifty dollar bill on speed and liquor felt good. More than good. Like she was on the roof of a party at the peak of the world. She and Carter tumbled into a hotel suite with hard liquor on their breath laughing between sloppy kisses.

It isn't until she's alone that Mel's inner thoughts catch up with her. Old habits die hard. The hotel room is cast in an eerie purple hue emitted from the bedside lamp. Although she can hear the shower head running she's never felt more alone. All the nice furniture and light fixtures can't coax the rot from Mel's body.

She'd only done it to herself.

Despite feeling cold and pacing the room to turn up the heater she can't stop wiping sweat from her brow. Beginning to shake uncontrollably she leans against the wall for balance, scooting across it as she fumbles blindly for a light switch. Too much. She'd taken too much.

In her blindly misguided scramble she catches her hand on a mirror hanging over the nightstand. With a resounding crash it tumbles to the floor. "Shit," she hisses.

Panicked, she kneels down barely feeling the broken shards digging into her knees. Half the glass remains intact and her reflection stares back ghostly and otherworldly in the daze of a purple hue. Her pupils are wide enough to consume oceans.

"Babe? Everything ok?" She's become so lost in the mirror she hadn't noticed the silenced shower head until Carter's voice coaxes her from the void.

Tucking her legs under he chin she whispers, "I'm alright."

A halo of foreign golden light frames Carter's form in the bathroom doorway. An archangel delivering her to the rapture. For some reason that makes her chuckle. You've really lost it now.

Without his help she probably wouldn't have gotten up off the floor. The world is tilting like some fucked up kaleidoscope and she might throw up soon. Carter supports most of her weight as they walk back to the bathroom.

"Jesus, you're bleeding everywhere."

Although his tone is level she can hear edges of terror creeping in as itchy as poison ivy. Using wads of toilet paper he dabs the blood from her chin first, smeared from when she'd rested against the cuts on her knees. She watches the sink water turn pink before focusing on his own dilated eyes.

"This was really fucking stupid," she grumbles.

"I shouldn't have talked you into it." It stuns her how calm he remains. She's shaking like a leaf and he's as steady as a boulder. An even high to Carter is like Xanax for an ADD patient.

"I took too much." Mel confesses softly.

"You're going to be okay." Her heart is throwing itself from her rib cage at a rapid rate of speed and her eyes narrow into slits. "Hey. Fuck, look at me right now. You're going to be ok."

As electrifying as a defibulator his hand pressing on her cheek jolts her back to life. When Mel flinches to awareness she nearly slips off the side of the slick porcelain toilet. For whatever reason she begins to laugh sucking in deep gulps of air that turn into embarrassing snorts.

"Alright. C'mon back to bed."

"No."

Her attempt to kiss him sends her face-planting against his chest when he stands. Scooping her into his arms he carries her across the room to lay her down. Crisp hundred dollar bills crunch beneath her body. She remembers throwing them into the mattress like confetti once they'd entered the room.

After he spreads out next to her she rests her head on his stomach. "What are we going to do with all this money?"

"Anything we want."

He'd meant to be supportive but his reply twists in her gut like something sour. "But how though? We fell right back into the rabbit hole."

"Doesn't mean we can't go anywhere, do anything."

"Anything?" She can't help but cringe at the hopefulness peeking into her voice. It sounds desperate to her. "Carter we've been fighting more than we ever have and I want to be clean but I don't know how."

"We're not fighting now." Her head lifts with the heavy sigh heaving from his diaphragm. "Look. I'm going to be honest. Whenever I try to ween myself off the shit I got totally fucking bonkers. I start hearing voices and I can't sleep because of night terrors but I can try out some sort of prescription. I don't know. Worth a shot right?"

"I'm scared." What remains unspoken is: how do two lifelong fuck up's handle a fortune? Once a street addict always a street addict.

"Don't be scared." His kiss is like velvet to her chapped lips. As oozing and delectable as a cherry chocolate. "I'm right here."

"Mmm, say that again." Her words are practically a moan.

"I'm right here."

In a frenzy of kissing and stroking they mold into a single being. Hitching her legs around his hips she reels him in closer twisting her tongue around his. They drink from each other like the Fountain of Youth. Mel might be a fuck up but Carter will be the one thing she got right.

☯