How long had I been asleep? And when had I realized that I wasn’t anymore?
I watched the ceiling fan circle slowly above me, doing nothing to dissipate the clouds of cigarette smoke that had drifted above my room for years. I started most mornings this way. But no…it wasn’t morning, was it? I turned my head toward the bedroom window and confirmed the sky was dark outside of it. The last thing I recalled was being in the bathroom and then… silence…and sweet darkness. Seth.
I sat up and chugged an old bottle of water sitting on the floor next to the bed and then threw the empty bottle at my closet door. I lit a cigarette and took a long drag, releasing a cloud of smoke up into the apathetic fan. It floated idly above me.
Pulling on an old hoodie, I walked out into the small living room of the apartment I shared with my roommate.
“Evening, Princess.” Seth was reclining on the end of couch, fingers flying across the keyboard of a notebook sitting on his lap. A confusing, yet edgy indie movie played on the TV in front of him. This was pretty much Seth’s life on any given day and it perfectly summed up all of my interactions with him since I’d moved in. Well, all of my sober interactions with him, anyway. I pulled down on my sleeves to subconsciously hide my arms like it made any sort of difference. But of course it didn’t – Seth already knew.
He noticed what I was doing and his smile fell into a sobering look. “Found you passed out in the bathroom again.”
“Sorry”. I rasped, and reached for a half can of Mountain Dew that had been sitting on the counter for God only knows how long.
“You do realize how difficult it is for me to drag a 6’3” dude out of the bathtub and down the hall to his room.”
“Next time just leave me there, man.”
“Hardly. You would have choked on your own vomit.”
I shrugged. I knew this was the death lurking in my future anyway. But heroin afforded me one convenience that I refused to part with: a dreamless sleep. I’d die before I surrendered that. Besides, if the nightmares came back I’d probably just kill myself anyway.
“You had some visitors today while you were passed out. Dretti stopped by.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. He left you more drugs. Said you could pay him when you had the money. You know, he must be the sweetest, most generous drug dealer in all of Chicago.”
“Where is it?”
“You were sleeping like a baby in the tub so I just left it next to you.” Seth said.
“Cool.”
“In the toilet.”
“Dude.”
“Look man, if you die I don’t get your half of the rent. And if I don’t get your half of the rent, I have to get a real job. It’s just business, not personal.”
Of course that wasn’t true. Seth and I had met at a darker time in both our lives and shared the sort of bond that is only forged in such circumstances.
“Who was the other?” I asked.
“The other what?”
