❝And she did the drugs for fun
But now she does them just to stay up❞
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I'm a half smoked cigarettes girl, a tiny tops and eye glitter girl, a quick and cheap girl. The female version of a playboy. Sexy, sweet, sour, anyth...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
I woke up next to Jack. After last night's blackout his bed was the most comfortable place in the whole world. He wrapped his arms around my naked body. He'd taken me home last night, my memory consisted of flickering memories of dancing around the hot springs with the champagne in my hand. Katiana lighting my cigarette while I was grinding naked on her. I'd remembered how hard Jack had been watching that. I knew the second we got in the truck he forced my head on his dick.
"How you doin sweetheart?" He whispered into my ear, pulling my hair back. I turned over to face him.
"It was fun." I said sweetly. Even though my head was pounding, I could hear my heartbeat and I felt like I was falling into the bed. I was used to the comedown off of coke, and crystal, as well as the ocasional fading of an acid trip. I put my hand on his back and flipped my legs over his.
"You gonna go to school today?" He asks, rubbing my thigh. Jack, didn't go to school how he was a senior is beyond me. Maybe they felt bad for him. I shrug.
"What's the point?"
"Free drugs."
He makes a good point, I stop myself from pointing out he shot me up for free, and cut my lines whenever I was to high to feel anything. He was my free drugs.
"I have work."
This was true. I wanted to avoid Wyatt and Leo with everything I had though. I couldn't ask Jack if we were a thing and he didn't want me to fuck anybody else, because I knew damn well I would. I untangled my legs from his. Saying aloud that I had work made it feel more real. I slipped into my work shirt, unwashed for weeks now. How Jack still wanted to fuck, my rapidly decaying and unwashed body was beyond me. After three sprays of a drugstore perfume and copious amounts of deodorant I decided that nobody would care at a rundown diner if I smelled like a grease trap.
Jack allowed me to take his truck, as his plans were to get high, drunk and watch Simpsons reruns all day instead of school. He did tell me if I got in an accident, if it didn't kill me he would. He wasn't joking either.
I know, looking back in ten years I'd hate taking Jack's truck to work. In the middle console I saw the needle from last night. There was still H left in it, next to it was the bottle of prescription fentanyl . I didn't know how to shoot up. But i knew where my vain was, and I knew how to crush a fucking pill.
