The trouble with drugs is that no matter how much pain and misery they put you through, they become a part of you. And you will always want to go crawling back.
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i m p o t e n t
I walked home with the biggest smile on my face. Jamison was such a nice person. He had me laughing throughout the entire evening. His charming smile broke down the brick wall I had recently built up.
Micah, however, was angry because my bratty co-worker snitched on me; I stayed out for nearly half an hour talking to Jamison by accident. As punishment, I have to pick up an extra shift Thursday. I should have known better than to ditch work, but Jamison had me under some kind of spell I couldn't tear out of. Too bad it was a one time thing- now I have to move on and face reality.
Knocking on the wooden door, I wait for Mark to answer. I hope he isn't in a bad mood tonight. I have no strength to fight back right now. If I show up tomorrow with another bruise, Mr. Alexis and Aaron will certainly be suspicious. Yesterday was a close call and although he's an ass, I didn't really like lying to Aaron when all he was trying to do was protect me. Actually, I don't think I will ever lie to him again because of what what he said to me in the car that afternoon.
"Elizabeth, come on in." Mark slurs, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Thank god he's drunk; I could just run to my room and sleep the day away. "Okay." I say nicely, careful not to push his temper.
"Mark, where's the Heineken?" yells a familiar voice, followed by clattering and breaking glass.
"Oh, shiit... Found it."
"Is Cory here?" I hesitantly ask.
"Yes, and so is Richard. Why? You wanna see 'em?"
I panic, "No! that's not what I meant," I say quickly. I don't want to go anywhere near them. Richard and Cory are Mark's friends. They both do drugs and drink, just like him. They have no respect for me or my mother. They have both attempted to sexually assault me in the past, but the only reason why they didn't succeed is because some Jehovah Witness group knocked on the door. That gave me a chance to escape and lock myself in my room.
"Too late." He smirks, "Guys, Elizabeth has entered the building!" he shoves me into the living room, which is now clouded with smoke. The noxious smell fills my nostrils. It's the putrid odor marijuana, triggering my gag reflex. There's crystal meth on the coffee table along with bottles of beer.
"Wassup," Richard greets. His eyes can't focus on me and kept darting from my face to the wall. He picks his hair and sweats excessively. He's been smoking meth.
"Hey, Elizabeth," says Cory, itching and scratching his arms. "What's up with that outfit? You covering way too much," he reaches over to my skirt and I flinch away.
