Village of Roses

Chapter Three [V.o.R]

“Family is not an important thing. It is everything.” – Michael J. Fox
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  "You used to love me, before I even was me, you used to hug me, lick me, suck me, kiss me-" cut off from her singing Ryder turned around addled.

The loud noise had come from the back of the apartment she and Ryland shared but, Ryland had been supposedly sleep. 'What the fuck?' she thought to herself leaving the bread unattended in the toaster as she went to venture out the source of distress.

Moving a knotted curl out of her face, Ryder placed a barefoot on each step until she had reached the top stair where the rooms were located. The hall walls were painted a pale green accented with eggshell white that bordered the ends. On the walls pictures from their teenaged years decorated paint giving off more of a home vibe feeling.

It was no coincidence that Ryland's room had been surrounded by more pictures of herself than the both of them. Those pictures where in the middle of the hall indicated Ryland slept in the room at the beginning of the narrow walkway.

Opening the white door, Ryder hadn't expected to be the one witnessing Ryland's drug withdrawal. As she thrashed around the room throwing empty prescription bottles in search of more Adderall or morphine. Ryland had huge black bags under the eyes that were once as vibrant as the sun, her hair disheveled, and her once beautiful curved body now slanky tall. Gone was her natural high and independence- now in her stance, a ghostly reminder of what use to be.

It was like what happened that morning earlier in the bathroom hadn't changed anything, Ryland hadn't saw change; she was reaping what she sow. She did what anyone else in her predicament would have done. Promising to whoever they believed in, they would stop causing themselves harm only to turn around and do it again but, this time- Ryland had been single handedly picked out and stopped before she could do it again. She hadn't promised any God her loyalty, she had given it to Ryder. The one person she never wanted to stop believing in her.

Sweat dripped from the small white tank top Ryland wore as if she was dressed for winter in the middle of the summer. Her black boy shorts sticking to her like a second skin and her bare feet had sickly veins popping through the thin layer of skin. Ryland no longer looked like Ryland – Rye'El with more melanin, was no longer what Ryder saw looking at her sister. The woman in front of her was an addict.

"I-I-I just had a whole bottle... Did you take it? Did you come in here and do this to me, Ryder you know. Come on we gotta fin-"

Ryder shook her head as she continued to watch her older sister; as if she'd stop when she realized Ryder wasn't helping her but, it didn't stop until Ryder spoke up. "Look at you, begging for mercy because you felt as if you were going to die. Ryland stop and look in the mirror, you aren't even Ryland. You're a crackhead, an addict." Ryder shook her head holding on to the thin grasp of composure she had.

It hurt biting her tongue but, Ryland had been decided she wanted to learn the hard way. Ryland made it known that Ryder's help was not needed the day she left rehab for a third time. They say the third time did it and Ryder had been done trying to support someone who obviously didn't care for themselves as much. Ryland said it was how she had come to deal with the untouched subject of her past but, who was Ryder to speak on what she knew wasn't true when she had been doing her best to forget her past as well.

Ryland pulled at the hair attached to her scalp before she groaned and fell to her knees, "stop! I'm not a crackhead – I d-don't even smoke crack. But m-m-my pills – the pills were here. If you can just help me find them; I can't Ryder, Katrina's face – the blood an-a-and if I could just find those pills." Standing back up Ryland continued her search throwing everything that was not the small pills she needed.