The Untitled Azura Project

You Have To Go

The slow drag of bitter smoke between chapped lips, followed by a mutter. “Graduation is for chumps.” The rest of the group chuckled at the comment. They stood in the school parking lot, waiting for the ridiculous ceremony to end. Everything remained rather tame until another senior, the bad boy with a perfect albeit mischievous smile, suggested doing something more exciting; he grinned before sauntering off, the others scurrying after him. Azura hesitated before she too followed, uncertain yet intrigued.

Cramped. The apartment was small, the living room/dining room barely accommodating the group. Sat in a circle, everyone whispered and sighed as they waited for their host to return from the bedroom. “Have to get something,” he had said, “it’ll be just a minute.” It had been more than a minute. In fact, it had been several minutes. If she had counted correctly, which she was sure she was considering she used mississippis, it had been nearly eight minutes.

Soon the boy returned, with something held behind his back. Letting out a pleased hum, he sat himself in the middle of the circle and laid out a few needles, all holding the same curious brown substance. He rolled up the sleeve of his black jumper before taking one into his calloused hand, pressing the needle against his arm, into a pale blue vein, and eased the liquid into his bloodstream. Soon they all followed suit, including Azura. At first she felt nothing, aside from the dull sting in her wrist. It didn’t take long for the drug to spread throughout her body though, her skin heating up and mouth going dry. It surged through her, a rush, the rush.

All worries, embarrassment, or any sort of negative thought was blurred out by the heroin, and it was absolutely wonderful. She felt alive again, finally free; nothing could weigh her down. That is, of course, until it wore off. She felt sick, tired, and her skin itched no matter where she scratched. The girl lay on the floor of a bedroom, Alex the bad boy's bedroom she presumed, unsure of how she ended up there and what had happened. With breaths coming in slow gasps and eyes fluttering shut, she tried to focus on the sounds around her. It was hard to tell if anyone else was in the room with how loud her breathing was. She wasn’t sure if she wanted anyone there anyway. Nothing wrong with wanting to be alone, right?