The thing about drugs is that it only lasts for a while.

Then you feel even worse than you did before.

So you want more drugs to feel happy again.

Just for the guilt to be ten times worse.

I did something at Eli's house. I don't remember doing it, but I know it was me.

According to the eight hundred dollars I found in my pocket.

Even worse, I doubt Eli has that much physical cash. Means I must've taken shit from other people, too.

The galaxy is slipping away from me. My arm can't reach it. Neither can it still reach the horizon. The wonderful thing is leaving from my grasp.

My mouth feels glued shut as I slump to the floor in my room. My eyes close once my ear presses against the soft carpet. I hear a heartbeat. A heartbeat absorbing me physically. Taking me away from the floor. Taking me in the floor.

I roll on my back. Spiders are crawling all over the ceiling. Some fall down onto me. I want to scream, but the glue is there. I want to move, but I'm being held. The little insects are forming cuffs around my ankles and hands. I can feel them tickle my skin. The rush of wind when they walk past the hairs on my arms makes me shiver. Goosebumps on my body make it bumpy for them, like hills or mountains.

I close my eyes. I breathe deeply. I feel the sensation of their tingling bodies in my mouth. I blow air away, along with a few of the spiders. They never fully leave, though.

☀︎︎

Lyndon, Minho, and Eli are sitting in the living room. They're discussing things. Eli and Minho their hard voices echo in my head. They're angry. Angry voices swirling through my head like a thunderstorm mirroring against pieces of my brain.

The echoes and slow-paced world are the last effects of the drugs before they'll be completely gone. I can already feel the devastating feeling begin to grow. It'll become the worst thing ever soon.

"I'm going on a walk," I tell them.

"I don't think—"

"I'm going on a walk, Lyndon," I repeat sharply. "I'll be back before it gets dark."

"Take your phone and put your location on," Minho says.

"No."

"Yes."

"You're not gonna fucking stalk me as I take a simple walk."

"We won't," Lyndon promises. "We'll only look at your location once it's dark and you're not back yet, okay? So live up to your promise and be back before the dark."

"Okay, fine. Whatever." I slip my phone in my pocket. With a grunt, I slam the front door shut, and start jogging to the white house.

See? It's already starting. The sick aftertaste of drugs. The moodiness. Hating everything.

I ring the doorbell of the house three times. Three long times. My finger turns white at how hard I'm pressing.

He opens the door, eyebrows up. "Yes?"

"I got your money." I reach in one of my pockets and give him the pack of seven hundred dollars.

"Need to check. Come in," he says, like a robot who's installed for saying these exact words over and over again.

I follow him inside the house. On the inside, I shrink. I shrink at the smell, the looks, the guilt in my stomach, the desire growing there as well, and everything at once.

He starts putting the money in the device, bill by bill. I don't sit down this time.

"What do you have?" I ask.

"Anything. LSD, ecstasy, mescaline, opium... all you can ask for."

I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I taste the blood. "I have one hundred left," I say. My voice shakes with guilt.

Just one more time. I'll stay in my room the whole time, so that I won't steal from anyone.

"Which?" He asks. He doesn't take his eyes off the counterfeit.

"Ecstasy," I say. "How much?"

"I'll live with a hundred."

"Don't fuck with me again. Just a hundred, right?"

"Yes. But I want you to pay fifty now, and fifty tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because I've got new shit tomorrow. The one you're buying is the last molly I got. Will get you bashed for a while, but if you want to relax, got some real things for you. Yellow jackets for seventy?"

"You're a real pump," I mutter.

"Glad you didn't forget the slang. So? Yellow jackets?"

Also known as barbiturates.

"I'll see," I say.

No, I won't. After the fifty dollars tomorrow, I'm done here. Forever.

"You do that." He takes my first pack of fifty and hands another little bag in return. "Have fun."

I mumble something even I don't understand, then head out.

︎︎☀︎︎

After my little visit in the white house, putting the drugs away in a drawer, and getting dressed so no one will smell anything, I sit down next to Minho on the couch.

"Hey." He smiles. "You okay?"

I shrug. I feel the worst. "Could be better. Are you busy?"

"Not until tomorrow."

"What was Eli doing here? Why were we at his?"

"Needed a favor from him."

"And am I allowed to know what that was?"

"Think you'd be better off not knowing." Minho wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his side. "Wanna watch a movie?"

I lean against his shoulder, blowing breaths away. "Sure."

Natural relaxation. No drugs needed when he's here.

"Which one?"

"Monsters, Inc," I say.

Minho chuckles. "Of course."

"Of course."

The movie has ended after a while, and I'm somewhat asleep, until Minho wraps his arm around me. It forces me on his lap— how else would we hug while sitting?

"I've missed you," he says. "Everything's so hectic. Please don't drink like that again. Without anyone else around."

I nod.

"And promise that whatever it is you're going through, you'll get help when it's needed. You don't have to tell me anything at all, but keep yourself safe."

I nod again. I silently promise him that by the end of the week, I'll have quit the drugs. Then everything will be over and we can continue living as always.

Except Thomas's father. But the police will get him.

"You stay safe, too," I whisper. "I'll visit Jen soon."

He buries his head in my shoulder. "Yeah. She hasn't woken up, but the doctors called me and said she'd be alright."

Relief floods into me. "Okay. Good."