CHAPTER 55
By the time we made it back to our room, I was calmer. My breath still hitched in my throat, but it was nothing like the racking, heart-wrenching sobs that had broken from my body. I watched Grey, sniffling and trying to catch my breath as he hurriedly broke open a red rubber balloon and took a large chunk from the tarry substance inside.
I was desperate for the heroin. Sick and getting sicker by the minute.
Grey’s features were tense as he worked. I noticed he took enough for both of us.
“Are you okay, Mackenzie?” He asked worriedly, looking up from his actions just long enough to assess my expression. I must’ve looked terrible, I probably had mascara running all the way to my chin, but he seemed relieved by whatever he saw.
“Yeah,” my voice was still hoarse from crying. I held my arms around myself to try and keep the nausea at bay. “I’m okay.”
“That was pretty intense.” He let out a breath, as if he’d been holding it this whole time. “What do you think your parents will do now?”
Inwardly, I cringed. I didn’t want to think about them. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw again the look of utter revulsion on my dad’s face…the deep, aching disappointment in my mom’s gaze. I shook my head free from the vision.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “They’ll probably do what they always do. Nothing.”
“They wouldn’t…call the cops on you, would they?”
“No.” I adamantly refused the idea. “No. Are you kidding? Think of what their friends would say. No, with my parents, its more…let’s just pretend this didn’t happen. Let’s just sweep this under the rug.”
Grey nodded. “I thought it might be something like that. ”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to think about them anymore. I tried not to remember how good our day together had been, how loved and accepted I’d felt, before… We sat in silence as Grey struck the lighter beneath the spoon. I watched him eagerly. I knew that none of this would matter in a few seconds, that the whole scene would seem like a far-off, distant nightmare. One that held no threat, one I could think about again without it scaring me anymore.
“I’m sorry I lost it.” I apologized, biting my lip. Sweat was beading on my brow. “I don’t know what came over me. Talk about dramatic.” I tried to smile at my ridiculousness, tried to seem light-hearted for him. It came out as a grimace.
“It’s okay. I mean, you freaked me out a little…but I understand.” Grey looked up at me with avid concern, his blue eyes penetrating my gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am. I am okay.” I assured him. “Seriously. I just need to get high.”
“Yeah, I know, but…” He sighed again, “maybe we should think about getting off the drugs. For real this time.”
“Yeah.” I agreed easily. “Sure.” But the words held no threat to me. That’s all they were, just words, and we both knew it. Just more empty promises. We couldn’t have quit the heroin then, even if we wanted to. I couldn’t anyway. I needed it. I needed it because I was afraid to be sober, afraid to face everything that happened; what I’d become. I needed it to forget the little piece of me that died the moment my mother opened up the bathroom door. It was my problem. It was my solution.
Wordlessly, Grey seemed to understand.
Once the needle plunged into my vein everything was good again, just like I knew it would be. Then I was on my back, floating on a sea of sweetness, where nothing could touch me but the strong, warm sun on my face. I knew I should be upset, I knew I should feel sad, but with the heroin fresh in my veins, racing through them, erasing all the negativity, it was all too easy to forget.
Maybe Grey needed it, too. He never left me once to shoot up alone, and whenever I’d sober up enough to hold my arm out for more, it wasn’t long before he joined me again. We lived in a slackened state of total peace upon his bed.
We stayed that way for a long, long time.
“Mackenzie?” There was a soft rap on the door. “Hey, Mac, are you up?”
“Hmmm…” I moaned into the mattress. “What?” I croaked, opening my bleary eyes and squinting at the door. It was Alex, looking apologetic. His voice dropped to a whisper .
“There’s someone here to see you. That Riley guy?”
Riley? Riley? Riley was there…? Oh, right. It was the holidays. Vaguely, I remembered our graduation—it seemed like ages ago when Riley promised to come and visit me whenever he was back in town. And if I was alive, he’d joked. Was I still alive? I wondered, a wry smile on my lips. Not really. I was too deadened to even register surprise he’d come to see me, and my answer didn’t require any thought. There was no way I could see Riley, not now. I sunk my face back into the mattress, relieved when all I felt was…nothing. I felt nothing—no sadness, no loneliness, no regret. I hadn’t thought of Riley in months. I shut my eyes again, at peace with my decision.
“I don’t want to see him, Alex. Tell him to go away.”
“You’re the boss.” He saluted me, and that was that.
But Riley didn’t go quietly. He came to see me the next day as well. Grey was just about to ease the needle into my arm when Zack knocked on our door this time, interrupting us. “There’s a Riley at the door.” He motioned with his thumb.
I shook my head adamantly, refusing to even entertain the idea. “Tell him I’m sleeping or something.”
Grey eyed me quizzically, but I think my response secretly pleased him. He raised an eyebrow. “We can wait, Mackenzie, if you want.”
“No. I don’t want to see him.”
“Okay. I’ll get rid of the guy.” Zack promised.
Grey frowned as the door shut again. “Not that I mind…but what was that about?”
“What?” I asked impatiently. I was antsy—eyeing the needle in Grey’s hand, wishing it was in my arm.
“You haven’t seen Riley in months. Why don’t you want to now?”
“I don’t know. I have nothing to say to him.” I lied. I couldn’t tell Grey the truth. I couldn’t tell him how hard it would be to see Riley, to have him laugh and smile and talk to me before he left me again and went back to his real life. I had no coping skills for that. I had no coping skills at all.
Nothing but the needle.
The next day when Riley came, I was all alone. Zack and Alex and Grey had gone into the city to get some more dope. I was actually up and out of bed, shakily standing in the kitchen in plaid pyjama pants and my Blondie t-shirt, forcing down some Honeycombs. The cereal made me nauseous, but I had to eat something.
I couldn’t remember the last time anything had been chewed by my teeth and swallowed by my throat. Lately, they’d only been used for vomiting .
As I stood there idly, I caught a reflection of myself in the microwave. The sight staggered me. I stopped. I nearly dropped my bowl of cereal. I gasped and took a step closer to the reflection, raising my hand to my cheekbone and touching it gingerly. It looked sunken into my face. Clumps of my dark hair were matted around my head—dreaded, tangled. The skin under my eyes was dark and purplish; my lips were pale and dry. I looked like a ghost. Like I should be haunting people. I stared at myself for a long moment, horrified. How long had I been binging for? How long had I looked like this?
That was when Riley knocked on the door.
I crumpled to the floor, hiding myself behind the kitchen island. I sat, my eyes wide, listening and waiting—hoping, praying that Riley would give up, that he’d just go away. It made me angry, his determination.
And then he knocked again.
“Mackenzie?” Riley called. He voice rocked through me, with warmth and familiarity and comfort and a long lost feeling of…security, almost. His voice felt like home. And at that instant I was pained—heartbroken that he was so close, just on the other side of the door, but there was no way I could see him. Not now. He couldn’t see me like this, I wouldn’t let him. I leaned my head back against the cabinet and steeled myself against the tears that threatened.
He knocked again. With sudden horror, it occurred to me that the front door might not be locked. And if it wasn’t, there was nothing to stop him from just walking into the house. Walking in and discovering me there on the floor, looking like road kill. For a moment, I wondered if I could play dead. I looked like I was dead. Maybe it’d be enough for him to leave me alone.
I pushed the thought from my mind, bit my lip and slowly crawled across the kitchen floor, as stealthily as I could. Luckily, the blinds were down on the window and he couldn’t see me as I slowly sidled up to the door. Crouching there, I lifted my arm and deliberately turned the knob on the padlock.
It clicked just a little too loudly. Riley started.
“Mackenzie?” He rapped again. “Mackenzie, I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. Open the door!”
I shook my head in silence, dropping my head in my hands. He was so close to me, only literal inches of metal separated us. I could hear his feet shuffling on the front step, could hear the hesitation in them.
“Mackenzie.” His voice sounded choked. “Zee, please? ”
Tears smarted in my eyes at the sincere concern deeply apparent in his all too familiar voice. I pressed my palm against the door, as if I could steal some of his comfort through the cold metal, and shook my head again. I can’t, I mouthed in silence. I can’t, Riley. Just go away. Go away. Forget about me. Have a good life.
He sighed. I could hear him rubbing his hands in the cold. Then, after a few tense, silent moments, finally I heard the sound of his boots slowly crunching away on the snow. His step was heavy, defeated. I didn’t relax until I heard his car start and pull out onto the road. I got up then, woodenly, and walked straight into the bathroom.
I got in the shower and washed my hair. I was numb, physically and mentally devoid of any kind of feeling. I let the hot spray pound in my face. I washed my hair again, using extra conditioner to try and detangle the clumpy, knotty mess. I felt blank, empty. I began to shave my legs. Swiping the razor too quickly, I nicked my knee, starting at the quick burst of pain and watching as the watery blood trickled down into the tub. But I felt it. And it felt…good.
Inspired, I took the razor firmly in my grasp, sucked my breath in, and dragged it slowly across the forearm of my left hand. It hurt. Blood flowed down my wrist. But it made me smile. The pain was sweet. I shut my eyes with pleasure, letting out a shaky breath of relief. Here was the release I needed, the release I’d been craving.
I felt something again.
I opened my eyes, and now they were gleaming.