The Drug In Me (Ronnie Radke Love Story)

Breaking News

I pinched Ronnie's shirt in my fists as the sun slowly peeked through the windows. I don't remember anything since last night, but I'm sure I had tons of night terrors last night.

Poor Ronnie, he probably didn't get any sleep last night. I looked up at his face, seeing how his eyes had dark circles under them and his eyebrows were still furrowed in concern.

I feel horrible, is that weird? I feel horrible for doing this to him, I've caused all these problems, and now I'm putting him in danger by even just being around him.

I should just leave and disappear forever, but I don't know if I'm strong enough for that. I've come to depend on him so much in these short weeks I've known him. I don't know what I'd do if all of a sudden he just wasn't there anymore. Break down, probably.

Before he was just this untouchable object of my never ending affection, an idol, a hero of sorts. But now, here, with him, seeing him in person, it's so much more than that.

He's still a hero, an idol, but now it's like he's real, he exists in real life, not just fantasies and daydreams. He's even more amazing in person than I could have ever imagined.

And I'm endangering him by being around him. I knew the risk, I knew there may be people out for me, and I still put him in direct danger because I'm weak. I thought I could pretend that I could be normal, but that could never happen. Not with me.

Before, I didn't want to leave Ronnie's arms, but now I'm disgusted with myself for being such a coward. I slip from his grasp and pad softly through the bus.

I was planning on going back to the worker's bus, but I passed by the living area, and the tv was on. I wasn't going to think anything of it, until I got a glimpse of what it said.

"Breaking News. A girl claims that someone tried to kidnap her and kill her yesterday. Police declined to comment, and the location of the girl was not released. The identity, however, was given to us by an inside source. Ryker Mathews. Yep, you heard me right, the ex-convict who, hmm, shall we say, graced us with her presence some weeks ago. I'm sure you've all heard of her a couple years ago, during her court case. Here to comment is the reporter that started Ryker's media journey, here at SBN, Ms. Samantha Williams. Hi Samantha," the news reporter said.

And the camera spanned across to the same reporter from the day I got out of prison.

"Hi Jack, I'm here in Seattle Washington, bringing you the inside scoop on Ryker Mathews. A girl of the dangerous age of 19, she was arrested in Glendale, California in an alleged domestic dispute with her sister's boyfriend at the time, at 15, and sentenced to a prison charge of at least 20 years for attempted murder and the use and sale of narcotics. Peers and neighbors say she was a mysterious, dangerous girl, a heavy drug-user, who got in many fights. She was a horrible student, once leaving school after her teacher insisted that she go to the social worker for help.

Her time in the Rehabilitation and Juvenile Detention Center was extended when her doctor reported continued drug use and violent behavior. After going through extensive therapy, she was reported clean, and, a week after her 18th birthday, was sent to her rightful prison cell. In prison, she got into numerous fist-fights with other convicts and prison guards, as well as a knife fight with the late Sandra Jones.

A month ago, evidence surfaced that could have suggested that her sister's boyfriend was not entirely innocent himself, and she was let out. Since then, she has been constantly televised, even recently she was shown snuggling up with the rocker Ronald 'Ronnie' Radke, another ex-convict. It seems she likes to keep the attention on her. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if she made up the whole thing just to extend her five minutes of fame with the media. Back to you Jack."

"Thank you Samantha. And now, the weather forecast-"

I can't believe it. I can't fucking believe it. They think that I made it all up. Think I'm some attention whore who doesn't care about lying or hurting others, only about keeping up my supposed 'popularity.'

In a shocked anger, I rush out of the bus and run out of sight of the buses. I find another solitary tree, and climb in.

In the hidden solitary, I cry and shake.

They think I made it up.

Just like at the juvenile hospital's psych ward, they thought I made, THAT, up.

I wish I had made it up.