Tripping: The Wasted Series, Book 1

Epilogue

It has been three years since we both told each other we loved them back. We no longer live in that awful rundown place we used to call 'home'. We moved to Amherst so I could start taking college classes. I decided I wanted to become a counselor to help kids and adults as well with drug problems. So cliche, I know but my experience can only help, I hope. Even if it is one kid I can get through to it will be worth it. So I take night classes and work during the day to survive. Since I am only taking night classes it will be about three more years until I can get my associates degree. As soon as I get that I am going to start working in counseling and continue to get my bachelor's degree. All in all I will be in college for at least ten more years. It is okay though. I will make it.

It was not okay for a long time, I must say. After our declaration of love we relapsed twice more. Each time worse than the previous one. The third time I got clean and I've been clean since then. That was a year and a half ago. The last time I relapsed I knew I would die if I did not get sober. And I never turned back.

For a long time I couldn't believe the love of my life was gone.

One hit too many.

Did I mention we started shooting up? Yep. Something I never thought I would ever do. We were at this guy's house and just scored some bags and went into one of the bedrooms for privacy. After we shut the door and had our bags out we noticed a guy in the room with his works all out. He asked if we needed some clean needles. I almost told him we don't shoot up but before the words left my mouth he threw us a couple needles all wrapped up tight and sterile. We looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders and decided, why the hell not. And that was the beginning of the end. It was amazing though, at that time, anyways. So much more thrilling and mind blowing than sniffing or smoking. It was bliss. It was heaven on earth and I never wanted to come down.

As the story goes we needed more and more heroin to sustain our habit. We just couldn't get the same high as we used to. We became thieves. We would steal anything that was worth a bag or two and trade for dope or if the dealer did not want it we would go to a pawn shop and get cash for it. We were doing okay until one day we had a real close call and almost got shot by the cops cause we wouldn't stop running. Finally losing them we got rid of our goods and bought as much heroin as we could and took a final shot. We then hitched to the closest hospital and checked ourselves in.

I was in one room and my love in another, so we were not allowed to see each other as we detoxed. It was grueling. The worst by far. It took a good five or six days to get my bodily functions under control. As soon as I started thinking straight again I ask the nurse to see my love. She looked at me and said she would be right back. These people have no sense of time because someone didn't come to my room for almost an hour after that nurse left. It was the doctor that I vaguely remember from all my days of detox.

He sat on a chair next to my bed and looked at me with hardly any emotion in his eyes. "I am so sorry to tell you this now, but when we got to your friend, they had overdosed and we couldn't get the heart beating again. Once again I am so sorry."

He got up and patted my back awkwardly and asked if I wanted to talk to someone - a priest or a counselor. I declined the invitation.

"No!!!" I howled over and over until my voice was hoarse. I curled up on the lumpy hospital bed and cried. Sounds I never heard before escaped my lips. Never have I been this upset over another human being. I felt like I was dying inside and I almost got up and walked out of the hospital to get high. As I was readying to leave a man in his early forties walked in and asked me if I would talk to him for a few minutes. At first I said no and started out the door. But then he opened his mouth and told me a story about his sister which was almost identical to my life. As I listened I figured he was making it all up but I looked into his eyes and saw the pain and regret coursing threw them. His eyes glistened from unshed tears and his hands were clenched together showing the white of his knuckles. I can see and hear in his voice how he wanted to save his sister but couldn't do it. It was too late. He told me even if they got her heart started again his sister would be a vegetable. In that moment I knew he was for real and that was the exact second I knew. I knew no more. No more drugs, ever. I told him I will never again touch drugs and asked him how I could do what he does. We talked for over an hour and he gave me names of people to contact and his business card in case I wanted to talk some more with him.

And from that moment on I decided to dedicate my life to her, my little girl, Poe.

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Thank you all for reading my story. I hope some of you liked it. Leave me your thoughts and comments. I appreciate the feed back.