Forever In My Heart

Part 8

I rolled out of bed, head aching from the last buzz and mix of alcohol. Today was the day that I would go and find Michael.
My plan was to be sober and not be on meth. I wanted him to see me for who I was, not what I am now. I felt a tear fall from my eye, I was ashamed of what I had become. If Michael had stayed with me, had lived.... Maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t have become what I was now.
I wiped my eyes and headed into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and did what I had to. Once I was done, I went back into the bedroom and picked up my clothes. I couldn’t wear this shit to meet him. He wouldn’t see me, well he would but not the me I was. I felt the anger rise and couldn’t control it. I punched the wall and decided today wouldn’t be the day. I needed my fix and then maybe just maybe I could face him. But not today.

A few hours had passed and I was high on meth. Now I could carry out part of my plan.
New Clothes....

I asked Floyd where the nearest place was and headed out.

I drove up to the place, parked the car and got out. It looked too snobby for my liking, all the fake, plastic people striding out with there bags. I had the money no problem, my meth business sorted that out for me. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
“Good Aft..”
I looked at the guy behind the counter, saw the shock and disgust that I was in the shop.
“Oh, not another robbery"
I heard him mutter.
I tried to ignore him and all the stares of the other shoppers. I looked at the shirts and found a decent black one. There was a leather jacket back at Floyd’s that I could use. Next I found a pair of dark grey Jean’s and took them to the counter. The whole entire time, I could feel all there eyes on me, watching my every move.
“Is that all sir?”
The guy behind the counter smirked, shoving them into a bag.
“No it fucking aint"
With that I smashed his face into the counter, yelling,
“Don't ever fucking judge someone you little prick"
I chucked the money for the clothes at him and walked out.

Once I was back at Floyd’s, I put the bag of clothes into the wardrobe with the jacket. Walking into my room I could feel the need for my next hit, and that’s when I realised – I needed to be off the meth before I could see Michael. I wasn’t on it when we were together so I shouldn’t be on it when we met again.

I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the urge rising in my body for the next hit. I decided to go into the living room and watch t.v. I flicked through the channels and stopped on a film. I tried to watch it but my mind kept wandering to my urges. I switched the t.v. off and went back to my room. Laying down on the bed, I closed my eyes and slowly fell asleep.

The next day I felt anxious, really needing a hit. I could hear Wade and Floyd talking about something but didn’t want to go out there. I couldn’t tell them I was trying to come off of the meth, they wouldn’t understand.
I turned over and fell back to sleep.
I was woken suddenly and before I could even move, I threw up. I was sweating all over and my stomach ached. I sat up, but was sick again. I managed to get up off the bed, but nearly fell to the floor. I had no energy but needed a drink. I made it to the kitchen and got a glass of water. Suddenly a pain ripped through my stomach and I  darted to the bathroom. Stumbling out the bathroom, I practically crawled to my room. I needed to sleep and that’s what I did.

I don’t know how many days passed before I actually felt awake again. I was still in pain and my eyes itched. Oh god, was there bugs in my eyes, in my skin. I started scratching my body, I wanted them out. My body shook as I cried out in frustration. Wade came into my room and I swear that bastard was dressed as a clown. I grabbed the lamp next to my bed and threw it at him, screaming at him to get the fuck out. Was there any point in this? Was Michael going to take me back? I started crying and wanted to end it all right there. A voice in my head whispered to me to just take a hit and it would all be over – but I couldn’t. I cried even more, my head feeling like it was going to explode. I looked round my room for anything to end it. I saw a piece of broken lamp on the floor by my bed and picked it up. I held it in my hands, thinking about ending it, when I saw him. I saw Michael and he looked..... disappointed.
“Michael I’m sorry”
I cried
Reaching out to him
“I’m trying to get better, for you"
Why wasn’t he answering me?
“Michael, I love you. Please answer me"
I begged him.
With that he faded and so did I, the piece of lamp falling back to the floor.