12. Abigail – “One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”-Bob Marley
12
Abigail
“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”-Bob Marley
I started pacing back and forth before I decided to call him. After about ten minutes of contemplation, I chose not to.
But what if he is in trouble? I let out a long sigh and plop on my bed face down. Screaming into my pillow.
Surprisingly, that mini outburst made me feel better, so I picked up my phone and texted him back.
Hey, I was eating dinner with my parents. What’s up?
I try to sound calm and collected even though I am anything but that right now. Within seconds, he’s texting back.
Abs. Thank God. Let’s meet. I need to see you
I look over at the clock, and it’s 7 p.m.
You know I don’t have a car.
Oh ya, I’ll come to you
Right now?
No, I can come at our usual time. I need some toxins in my veins. My sweet, toxic wish.
What is he talking about? I hated it when he spoke in riddles. To get this conversation back on track, I typed out another text.
What was the favor you needed? Or do you not need it anymore?
No, I do. Do you happen to have sixty dollars on you? I’ll pay you back, I promise.
My heart sinks when I know why he was blowing up my phone, and I’m not surprised. I read about this when I was googling drug addiction habits and took myself on a rabbit hole when I couldn’t sleep one night. Drug addicts typically relapse, and when they do, they start asking for money, and when people get tired of giving them handouts, they start stealing it.
Me: I don’t have that kind of money on me, Blake. What do you need it for?
I saved some money from all the birthday gifts and allowances I’ve kept. I was good at saving money, mainly because I wanted to get the hell out of my parent’s house as soon as possible. Whether college or getting my place came first, I didn’t care.
Blake: Never mind, it’s not your problem. I’ll come to you at 11:11.
He was acting so weird, and since I haven’t been hanging around him much lately, I wasn’t sure if it was because of the drugs or if he was in trouble.
Deciding not to worry about it until I see him, I text him a simple, Okay , and wait until eleven tonight.
“Adalee,” I whisper into my sister's ear. I shake her lightly. “Hey,” I say again.
She moans a little as she turns over. ‘“What,” she rubs her eyes. “What is it?”
“Where are the keys? I need to borrow the car.”
She looks over at the clock. “It’s 11:30 at night. What the hell do you need the car for?”
“Adalee, please, it’s Blake. Something is wrong. He was supposed to be here forty minutes ago, but he’s not answering. Please.”
“Oh God, you aren’t going to chase him, are you?’”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Go back to sleep. I’m sure he’s with another girl. Don’t make yourself look more pathetic by showing up while he’s probably fucking her right now.”
“Adalee,” I feel my veins throbbing on the side of my head, as anger seeps through me down to my core. The longer I argue, the more time I’m wasting, and I still have to head to his house, which will take eleven minutes if I drive fast. “I’m serious. He’s in trouble. I can feel it.”
She rolls her eyes. And points to the dresser. “Underneath my baseball cap.”
“Thanks,” I jump off the ladder and quickly grab them.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says as I slip out of the window, closing it lightly before bolting to the car and heading to Blake's house.
When I pull up to his house, it’s almost midnight. His car was in the driveway, and it was still running.
What the hell?
My stomach churned and my breathing accelerated. Maybe he is with another girl. Parking my car, I contemplate if I should leave and return home. I can’t bear to see another girl riding his dick, not when my emotions are already on edge. I try to look inside the windows to see if I can see any movement or another head, but I can’t. The car isn’t rocking or moving, so he’s clearly alone.
“Okay, here goes nothing,” I say to myself. I open my door and walk up to his car. When I look in the window, Blake is passed out.
“Fucking great.” I shake my head and storm off, but worry drags me to look back over my shoulder. Walking back to his car, I knock on the driver's window.
“Blake,” I say lightly. Then I tried to open it, but it was locked.
“Blake, hey,” I bang on the window louder.
“Blake!” I scream as I start pounding so hard on the window that I think I may break it. Panic sets in, and my hands begin to feel clammy as my heart pounds a mile a minute. I feel almost faint from the overwhelming thoughts and the possibilities of why he is not waking up. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Oh God, oh God. No, no, no.” I bang on it again, begging it to break with my fist. I try to open the door again, hoping it will miraculously open this time. It doesn’t. My palms are sore from how hard I pounded on his window.
“Fuck!” I scream out as I kick the door. I look around and start looking for a rock—anything to see if I can break the window open. I begin searching the ground when I see the lovely landscaping by the neighbor's entryway. Quickly jogging over to it, I grab a huge rock and run back to the car.
“C’mon, please be big enough to break open.” I run to the passenger's side and say a prayer as I practice a few throws, ensuring I won’t miss the window or hit his head and make things worse. When I feel confident enough that it will go through, I aim and shoot. Glass shatters everywhere, and I praise the Gods above before running to his car and unlocking the doors from inside. Glass is on the seat and all over like sharp crystals, but I couldn’t care less, as I sit down in the seat. My adrenaline was pumping through me so intensely that I could feel my veins pounding on my head. Other than that, I couldn’t feel anything. The only thing I noticed was Blake. He’s all I could see
“Blake, wake up. I need you to wake up.” I continue to smack his cheeks lightly.
“Blake,” I jerk him a little. “Blake, please.” My voice cracks, tears start forming, and one slips down my face. “Blake, please,” I say into the dark moonlight.
I check for a pulse on his neck, then his wrists, three times, and when the panic starts to wear off, dread kicks in, and I grab my phone from my back pocket and dial 911.
“This is 911, what’s your emergency?”
“Ya, Uh,” My voice cracks, and I suck in a sob so I can speak. My mind racing a million miles per hour. “I just checked on my friend, and he’s not breathing. He’s not waking up. He’s N-”
“Okay ma’m I need to ask you some questions so we can help your friend as soon as possible. Can you answer them for me?”
“Y-ya,” I say as a tear falls slowly down my cheek.
The ambulance starts asking a bunch of questions, but it becomes a blur in my head as I look at Blake’s face. He looks so pale, like he’s already a ghost. His head is tilted to the side, and from this angle, it appears as if he’s sleeping, but somehow, I know he will not wake up anytime soon. After the ambulance hangs up, I put my phone back in my pocket and searched for something, anything to tell me he took something, in hopes he didn’t, and maybe it’s not too late, and the ambulance can revive his heart, or perhaps they can just pump his stomach, and he’ll be fine. I look down and see that he’s still holding his phone in his hand. It was like he was about to call someone. I reached for it and took it from his hand. The movement made the phone light up, and my heart almost stopped when I saw who he was messaging.
11:11 pm. Abs, I wish it wasn’t me. I wish I didn’t have to fight this demon I carry inside. If I can get one kiss, just one last kiss, maybe your sweet venom will make the pain disappear instead of….
Tears started to stream down my face as I reread the unsent message written to me, over and over, until the tears blurred my vision.
“Ma’am,” a voice behind me shouts, and I jolt, dropping the phone to the floor. They open the car door.
“Is this Blake?” One of the paramedics says.
“Yes.” I scramble to my feet, pressing down on the broken glass underneath me as they carry him out of the car and place him on a gurney.
“We—we—” trying to find my words, I get to the point and tell them what they need to check for.
“I-I think he took something. I checked his pulse before you came. He wasn’t breathing, and I-” A hand is placed on my shoulder, forcing me to look at the male standing before me.
“It’s okay, ma’am. Were you with him when he took anything?”
“No-No. We were supposed to meet up, and-” My mind wanders off when I think about how different things could have been if I had gotten to him sooner. A jolt of pain hits me at once as if lighting came down to strike me for my sins. It’s my fault. I should have come sooner. I’m just like my mom, careless. Selfish.
“Ma’am,” the man’s voice brings me back to the horrid reality I’m in when I feel a trickle of rain start to come down.
“Ma’am, did you take anything?”
“No, no. I didn’t. We were supposed to meet up, and when he was late, I got in my car and came to his house to check on him. His car was still in the driveway, running, and I saw him pass out, and he wouldn’t wake up. He wouldn’t move. He wouldn't ....”
Trembling now, I feel my words come out shaky and short since my main focus is to breathe and try not to think about Blake, who is lifeless in his car. Tiny drops of rain land on my face, and I’m grateful in a way because I feel like I can let the tears flow freely now. As if God is telling me to go ahead and let it out.
“It’s okay, ma’am. It’s going to be okay. We are taking him to the hospital now.”
I turn around and see the paramedic close the back door of the ambulance.
“Wait, I want to go with him.”
“No, I’m sorry, ma’am, you won’t be allowed. Only his parents.”
He doesn’t have any parents. I want to yell out.
“Please, I’m his friend. He would want me there.”
“I understand, but we must contact his parents and let them know we are doing everything possible to bring him back.”
Bring him back?
At that, the world falls silent, and it’s as if I can see it, but it’s all a blur with muffled sounds ringing in my ear. I feel the raindrops pick up speed as I stand there, trying to absorb the reality of what is happening. The reality of my friend being taken away in an ambulance.
I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder, but I don’t move. I stand in the driveway, and the red lights leave my peripheral vision. The noise stops, and I only hear the sound of raindrops and the song playing in Blake's car.