On the Road to Serenity (sequel to Take Me to Church)

Chapter 6

A/N Sorry if this is crap.

With no heroin, I was doomed. No, I might as well be dead. In a few hours, the living hell would begin. Panic and hysteria were just about to kick in. Right then, I didn't care who took my shit. I only cared that it was GONE and I was fucked! I furiously dumped out all the contents in my bag and sifted through my supplies. I sniffed and examined the spoon, sensing it had recently been used. There was only one person who could have used it since I hadn't seen Alyssa or Remy since yesterday. Heroin wasn't Alyssa's drug of choice, anyway.

Fuming, I stormed out of the bathroom to confront Liam, the only one who could have taken it. "You fucking asshole! Get the fuck out of here! I never want to see your fucking ass again! Did you hear me? GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Liam didn't acknowledge me. He didn't even flinch or respond to me in any way, and I was so loud the whole floor heard me. My neighbor pounded on the wall telling me to shut up.

Something was wrong... very wrong, and I didn't need to be a genius to figure that out.

"Motherfucker," I muttered, running to Liam on the bed. "Wake up, Liam," I said, shaking his shoulders. "Wake the fuck up!" Liam's body was limp and floppy. I held his arm and spotted the fresh needle mark. "Fucking wake up!" I tugged his arm nearly out of his socket, still with no response. He had a faint pulse and he was breathing heavily. He sounded like he was snoring, but I knew he wasn't snoring. This was the pending death sound. This was bad... really bad. He just took a shitload of heroin and now he was practically a corpse in my bed. "I can't believe you fucking did this. I can't fucking believe it..."

There was only one thing I could do.

To counteract the Suboxone, Liam needed more heroin to get the full effect. He also hadn't used in a long time, making him susceptible to an overdose. I ran back to the bathroom to fetch the narcan spray. I always had a couple on me just in case. I returned to him and inserted the nozzle into one nostril and pressed the plunger. Believe it or not, I'd never administered narcan before and I'd never needed it. I was just lucky, I guess.

Now I was faced with a dilemma: Should I or should I not call 9-1-1? I was furious and scared at the same time. I was more than furious at Liam. He betrayed me in a way no one ever had... as a friend, I mean.

A normal, sane, and non-addicted person would think it was a no-brainer: Call 9–1-1, idiot. But I wasn't a normal, sane, and a non-addicted person. If I called 9–1-1, I had to face the inevitable, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

Or I could run and let Liam die.

No, I wasn't that evil.

"Fuck it," I said, pressing 9-1-1 on my phone. As the dispatcher picked up, I looked down at Liam, who was still unresponsive. His lips had turned blue, and I had a feeling he was no longer breathing. "Hi," I said to the dispatcher, my heart racing. "My friend is OD'ing. I gave him narcan, but I don't think it's working. I'll give him another, but he's gotta go to the hospital. He's dying. Send someone quick. I can't let him die. You gotta send someone or he's gonna fucking die. He might be dead already. Send someone!"

"I'm sending someone now," she assured me. She was calm despite my hysteria. I suppose 9-1-1 dispatchers were trained to remain calm.

After I hung up, I knelt beside Liam and gave him another spray in the other nostril. The asshole still wasn't breathing. I didn't know what else to do, so I started CPR. After a few pumps on his chest, Liam abruptly gasped for air. I burst into tears, relieved he wasn't dead. Still, he wasn't out of the woods. He continued to struggle to breathe as I sat beside him, sobbing and waiting for the paramedics. I had this sinking feeling that Liam wouldn't make it.