Life of Max ✔️

Thirty

MAX

Addiction is a brain disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences.

It's been just a few weeks, and here I am, researching the definition of "addiction". I'm being stupid, anyway. It's not like I can't quit. I've already been a few days without it, and I'm still here, aren't I?

I'm getting the stash back from Haley tonight. I just have to make it through dinner with my dad and grandmother first. I'll need a few rails before that, I think.

I pull out the small bag in my pocket, and I stare at it for a few seconds.. I'm not sure if I should, but I really think that I need it. I'm feeling so fucking depressed, and even paranoid. I feel like I'm being watched. Constantly. Like someone's gonna come and get me, for some reason, or some shit. I don't fucking know what's happening to me anymore.

Fuck it.

I open up the plastic bag and pour some of its contents out on my desk in front of me, and I pull out my rolled up $20 bill. I close my eyes for a few moments, until I use my credit card to divide the powder into two rails on the table.

I lower my head down to them, and close one of my nostrils with my index finger, before inhaling. It burns a lot more than it has before, and I grimace, before quickly snorting the other line, too. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand, and frown as I see blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I did too much. My nose is bleeding.

I rush to the en suite, and lucky for me, I don't think Harry will be home any time soon. I think he had a date last night, and he'll definitely not come home until late, if it went well.

Of course there's not much toilet paper left in there, but I use what we have and sit down on the toilet, tilting my head back.

Shit.

I'm supposed to be on my way to the hospital already. I'll probably just tell them I overslept. That sounds like me.

-

"Oh, Max, you look horrible!" my grandmother exclaims when she meets me in the hallway.

Like I didn't know that to start with.

"I know, I'm not sleeping well," I answer her, and give her a quick hug.

My nosebleeds stopped quicker than I thought, I'll just have to remember not to do that much next time.

I can definitely feel the difference. Especially now that I've had a couple of days without anything. I feel so much lighter, and happier, and I can actually smile at my grandmother without faking it. She looks pretty bad herself, but I wouldn't dare tell her that. She would slap me, I'm sure of it.

"Well, just sleep better, then, boy," she scolds, and rolls her eyes at me, before hugging me close again. "Your dad wants to go to this restaurant a little away. Do you mind driving?"

"Sure," I tell her, and smile.

It's been a while since I drove a car, but I can definitely do it.

We step into my dad's room, and he's, for once, out of that horrible hospital-gown. He's in his own clothes, a buttoned-up shirt and dress-pants. Just like he always dressed before. They're probably all designer, too. Even his shoes.

He smiles at me when we enter, and he's in the middle of tying his tie. His arms are shaking like crazy, even worse than before. I find myself feeling a bit uneasy when I see it. It feels more like watching my own future than my dad right now. And I'm not sure I like it..