Laced » Lip Gallagher [3]

6: drift

"Oh, what a shame we gotta pay for reality..."

-

Sometimes I get so caught up in my own thoughts, I forget to blink.

It's mainly when I'm thinking about drugs.

It's like my mind gets lost at sea with no anchor to hold me still. My thoughts drift and drift like wood caught in a tide. The horizon stretches so far, like a never ending plain, one that I could easily get stuck in forever. Sometimes I think if I could ever reach the end, I would fall off the face of the Earth.

I drown myself with thoughts about who I could've been.

It's amazing how one small pill changed everything. I swallowed the first one and sat on the bathroom floor, waiting to feel something. To feel anything. I picked at my black nail polish and wondered what it would be like. Wondered if it would make me tired - if it would make me feel wired. Then it came so quick. I didn't even remember feeling when it started. Everything slowed and my body felt like air.

I never felt the constant pressure in my chest until it floated away like the rest of my worries. With the pop of one pill, my problems drifted and so did I.

It was never the plan to do it again. I just wanted to see what Renee was constantly bitching about and what all the kids at school were raving about. It was curiosity that killed the cat, because one turned into two. When two wasn't enough anymore, I didn't even think about dumping five into the palm of my hand and washing it down with a drink. It came naturally.

Addiction came easily, and I let it happen.

When more than seven oxy's wasn't enough, I realized I needed something more.

Cocaine was never the plan, but neither was oxy.

The first hit I took was sloppy and inviting. I could feel it drip in the back of my throat.

The last hit I took was easy and revolting. I felt it as it cracked my bones.

And just like that, I could get lost in the sea of my thoughts, diluted with drugs and never-ending highs. They pass by like tidal waves in the color of regret and sorrow. I could get lost if I didn't keep my head above water.

Addiction was never the plan. But it happened anyway.

When I blinked, I realized my pen ripped through the paper. I lifted my head up from the palm of my hand and looked at the scribbly black circle I mindlessly doodled on the notepad.

When my thoughts came, they demand my attention.

I sat up once I heard footsteps trail downstairs.

Ian slowed down at the last step once he saw me sitting at the kitchen table. "Hey," He said casually before unbuttoning the top of his uniform while he made his way over to the fridge.