A Girl Named Callie

<Jasper> A Boy Who Doesn't Care

Chapter 32

<Jasper Coven>

"He needs to get a job or something," I hear Mrs. Arthurs say, her soft voice travelling under the crack of my bedroom door. "He's been living here for three months and he barely leaves the house, Abigail."

"How do you expect him to get a job? He needs to be weaned off heroin first." Abigail says with exasperation.

"Maybe if he had a job, he'd have something else to focus on other than withdrawal." Mrs. Arthurs says, trying to keep her voice level.

"He can't focus on a job while he's going through withdrawal."

Yeah withdrawal. I snort as I shove a towel up against the crack between the door and the floor. I open a window and sit on the end of my bed with my spoon and my lighter. I dip the spoon into a fresh baggie and pull out some of the white powder, heating it with my lighter. The powder dissolves and I put it into a fresh syringe. I find a clear bit of skin in the crook of my elbow and insert the needle.

The high begins as I toss the needle on the floor and lay back on my pillows. I feel my heartbeat calm down as I stare as the soft beige of the ceiling, my limbs becoming heavy like a boat sinking beneath the waves. I've spent the last three months in this same stupor, trapped alone behind this closed door. No one breaches the door. Mrs. Arthurs assumes that since I don't leave the house, I can't be getting heroin from anyone. Abigail is too scared to discover the truth that she knows lives behind my door. I only leave my room during the day to get food and meet Mateo in the back alley behind the building to get my fix.

The high wears off sooner than I want, so I prepare another syringe and lay back again. I hear footsteps outside my door and Abigail and Mrs. Arthurs' soft, annoyed voices. I ignore them and prepare another syringe, my new high wearing off even sooner than the one before.

"Abigail, we should've sent him to rehab from the beginning. Neither of us are equipped to give Jasper the help he needs."

"You know he never would've gone for that." Abigail sighs.

At least she got one thing right. I think as I stick the needle into my arm. My muscles become heavy again and I feel my breathing slow down until it almost stops. Suddenly, I can't move and I try to scream but nothing comes out except for a long string of choking noises as my lungs try to get more air. I hear the door being thrown open and Abigail screaming for me. She shakes me but I don't respond, my conscious mind trapped in my lifeless body. Mrs. Arthurs calls 911, her hands shaking. My eyes droop closed as a gurney is rolled into my room.

~~~~~

I blink and my eyes are met with the harsh glare of hospital lighting. I turn my head and see a machine beeping next to my head, a long plastic tube running to my arm and another one running to my mouth. Abigail and Mrs. Arthurs are sitting in chairs across from the end of my hospital bed. Abigail looks up and catches my eye, the tension from her expression melting into relief. She steps out, probably to call the nurse to tell her I'm awake. Mrs. Arthurs stands up and walks over to me, her soft fingers ruffling my hair.

"We tried to call your mama. We left a message with Ashley. Hopefully, she'll come by later."

You didn't have to do that. I feel my fists clench at my sides.

"Jasper, why are you doing this to yourself?" She chokes up at the end of the sentence.

I look away from her, my cheeks burning red. A nurse comes into the room and checks my vitals. She removes the tube from my mouth, satisfied that I can breathe on my own. She scribbles some things down on my chart and untangles the IV tube in my arm so that whatever medication they're giving me will flow more freely. The nurse fluffs my pillow and sets an extra blanket on the end of my bed before leaving. Abigail slides her chair to the head of my bed and sits down so I can't avoid her glare.