Lure of the Monster

Help of a Stranger

I woke up in the middle of the night and stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before the products I'd consumed made a reappearance. I rested my head against the toilet seat, not caring at that moment what else may have been lurking on it.

Taking a deep breath, I sat back and pulled out my phone. I'd silenced it after the first round of phone calls had come in from Jane. I stared at all of the texts, my mind not comprehending what they said. I didn't really care. I'd stopped caring a long time ago.

I deleted them all and shoved my phone back into my pocket. Shakily, I stood up and stumbled out of the bathroom towards the kitchen. Chris was passed out at the table, his hand loosely wrapped around a beer bottle. I reached past him and picked up the straw, snorting the remainder of the powder that was on the table, before I grabbed my sweatshirt. At least, I was pretty sure it was mine. Without a glance at Chris, I walked out the backdoor and into the cool air.

The world around me was a blur as I stumbled around the east side. There weren't many people. Some homeless individuals shuffled past me, but they didn't ask me for any money. I probably looked worse than some of them.

I could see the flashing lights of a bus at the end of the street. I hurried my shuffle to a jointed walk and made it to the bus just before the doors went shut. I handed a few crumpled bills to the driver that was eyeing me before I slumped down into a seat near the front, resting my head against the cool glass.

Maybe the bus would take me far away, I thought as the bus pulled away from the curb and started back towards the downtown area. Someone coughed in the back, but the bus was otherwise silent. I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would take over, but it wasn't long before the bus stopped again and a couple of people climbed on.

How many people were awake at this time?

"Mind if I sit here?" one of the newcomers asked.

I cracked my eyes open to see that the man was looking down at me before I closed them again and shrugged. Didn't matter as long as he just let me get some sleep. The seat cushion dipped as he settled next to me. He smelled good. I smelled like shit.

"Little late for you to be out, isn't it?' the man asked after a few minutes.

I shrugged. Didn't open my eyes. Didn't move other than the subtle movement of my shoulders.

"I just got off my shift," he replied, shifting on the seat. "It was a pretty rough night. Any night in this part of town is, really, but this one was even more so."

"Uh huh."

"So, what'd you take?" he asked. I opened my eyes to see him looking at me. "You're too alert for it to have been heroin, but too deep for it to have been marijuana. Opioids?" I looked away. "Thought so."

"Just leave me alone."

"Can't do that," the man said. I watched in the window's reflection as he crossed his arms, his eyes still on me. "I took an oath to first do no harm. By leaving you alone, I'd be letting a, what, sixteen, seventeen year old ruin his life with drugs. I won't do that."

"I refuse care," I slurred. "Now, piss off."

He chuckled. "You're not very threatening, Mr..."

I closed my eyes. "Stanton. Beckham."

"Beckham. Nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Matthew Woods. Anyways, I've had worse said to me. I'm actually a little disappointed that you didn't say worse, seeing how you are a teenager and all," he said with a laugh.

He was pissing me off and the anger was diminishing my high, which just made me even more angry. I hadn't gone to that house for nothing. I'd wanted to forget everything. I didn't want to talk to a doctor on a bus about what I was using to cope with everything.