Addicted | ✔

C h a p t e r F i f t y

                                                                              PART FIFTY

                                                                ❝Katie, your not okay.❞

I read a book once, about a girl who tried meth. She'd explained, artfully how when you crash, you crash hard. She was right. I am laying on the bed trapped in a cold sweat. My hair is plastered to my face and the sounds of the ac seem all too distant. I was not sure why I'd taken the sparkly powder from the kitchen counter. I knew Jack was going to sell it, and yet, I prioritized myself over him. Because I was hurting, as a matter of fact as my mind spun away from that it began to spin to Jack. I'd been up for three days, most people would've thought I was on a bender. Maybe I was, but it had been fun. The whole entire world had seemed a little brighter than it actually was. For someone like me, that felt like an entire life of wanting, and needing  but also, it felt okay. 

An old boyfriend of mine, had said he loved the fall because of it's safe feeling. This felt like fall, only the drug. It felt safe. Like it was a transitional thing. I shook my head at myself, feeling as if my brain was bouncing around the entire time. My head felt like it was on fire and it hurt. I was hurting. I switched onto my side, feeling my body sink into the couch. The house was utterly silent Evie wasn't awake yet which meant I did not have to drag my bones out of bed. So there I lay, thinking about how much my life had slipped out of my own hands. I tried, as if I was still a child and wasn't sure how to lift my own head up yet. My body felt heavy and I desperately wanted to sleep. But I could not. I rolled back onto my back to stare at the celling, to count all of the imperfections on there. 

I was exhausted, so tired but my body did not let me fall into sleep. I attempted then, to drag myself out of bed. I let my cold feet make contact with the cold floor. As I ambled into the kitchen I saw it looked like the picture of cleanliness. Everything practically shone. I opened the door to my daughter's room, barely still feeling like death. She was awake, I watched her babble at the celling. She did not see me in her door for a good two minutes, her little blue eyes lit up when she saw me. I scooped her out of her crib, for some reason she weighed more than a grand piano.

"Good morning my love." I said, straining to form the words. She smiled, showing her two first teeth. Suddenly the was a knock on the door. I froze, nobody ever came here, it was only me and Jack, most people didn't even know we lived here. I shifted her onto my right hip. I pulled the door open to reveal two police officers. I was stone cold sober, holding my daughter a little tighter. 

"Can I help you officers?" I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. One of them stepped forward.

"We're looking for a Jack Miller." He said, glancing behind me. I froze even more then. Was he in trouble? What had happened? I shrugged trying to play it off.

"He isn't here." I stated. Which was not a lie, he was in fact very much here. The officer stepped back.

"Who are you in relashionship to him?" He asked.

"His wife."

I said, and then I remembered an episode from shameless. In which you cannot testify against a spouse. Which made plenty of sense. I sighed a little bit.

"May I ask what he did?" I replied, feeling very small under their gazes. I know I looked like shit. I didn't need them to tell me I looked like a druggie.

"Your husband, is apparently a very notorious dealer. I'm not sure if your aware Ms. Thomas but he has another house in his name, we found copious amounts of controlled substances and narcotics." The cop said to me. At that moment, I could not think. I could not feel, I only could see my future crumbling in front of me. I shook my head, playing dumb.

"No officer, I was not aware of that. I wasn't even aware he was a user." I stated. This was clearly, a bold faced lie and anyone with half a brain would understand that. The officer nodded. 

"We'd like to look around Ms. Thomas if you don't mind." 

I prayed to God, or whatever higher power there was that I was not going to go to jail along with my husband. I stepped aside as they opened drawers and cabinets as they searched under our matress, and looked through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I smiled brightly as they shuffled through the pill bottles, a couple of them were in fact in my name. The harder ones anyway, from when I was in too much pain from having Evie to even function. When they got to the blue bottles, Jack's meds my smile faltered.

"Were you aware your husband is bipolar?" The officer asked, reading off the names of the prescription. I nodded slightly.

"There has been some small evidence of that." I replied. Another lie. I watched them file out the door, they thanked me for my time. As soon as I shut the door I practically launched Evie into the couch and grabbed for my phone on the counter. It rang, four times until the line clicked on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? The police were just here." I snapped, because I was scared, scared of what would happen to my daughter if I went to jail.

"I know." Was all he responded with, and then to my horror the line went dead.