The Junkie 
Category: Writing and Poetry 


In the back yard of an abandoned house he prepared himself his 
next fix. He had just begged, borrowed, and stolen enough to get 
himself and his buddy some cocaine
They split it up, put water in their cookers with the coke, 
mixed it up and with seperate outfits they drew the coke up from 
the cookers. They injected it into their arms. 


He went crazy, his friend made a frightened look and pointed at 
him like he saw something grabbing him from behind. He started 
twisting around and grabbing behind him thinking that something 
was trying to kill him. He couldn't see it, but he could feel 
it. Somebody was definitely there. He hopped over the fance and 
ran like he never had before, constantly looking behind him and 
reaching around to see if he could feel someone trying to reach 
for him and choke him. 


He ran to the nearest house where he could see people. He ran to 
the closest person and hugged them tight and asked for help. 
They couldn't understand him because they didn't speak the same 
language. He ran to their door, not seeing that there was a guy 
inside with a shotgun loaded and cocked. He could hear gremlins 
and ghouls crawling under their car in the driveway that were 
waiting for him to step off that porch. They would grab him by 
the ankles, pull him under the cars and eat him if they got the 
chance. 


He couldn't actually see these demons, but he knew they were 
there, he could smell them. They were crawling and inching 
closer now poised and ready to strike and throw him down to the 
ground where they could pound his brains in, cut his throat, and 
eat the flesh from his bones. He had to do something, they 
family wouldn't open the door to the house. He made the decision 
to break their window and jump into the house. 


He broke their window, and didn't realize that his arm was just 
hanging on by a thread, the window had cut his arm to ribbons. 
He jumped into the house and the owner shot him in the feet with 
a shotgun. He jumped back out onto the porch. He realized now he 
could not avoid it, he was going to have to make a stand and 
fight these evil creatures. He went out onto the front lawn and 
started spinning as fast as he could with a chair in his hands 
hoping to hit these demons that wanted to kill him. 


He picked up bricks and threw them into the direction that he 
heard the sound coming from. He finally fell to the ground and 
put his hands around his neck. He didn't want to get his throat 
cut with a piano wire like he'd seen in the movie "Good Fellas". 
He started to suffocate now, everything turned black. He could 
feel himself falling into a black bottomless pit. 


He could feel warmth like there was a fire burning far below. In 
his minds eye he thought he detected a net catching him on his 
way down but he couldn't be sure. He awoke next on a gurney, he 
was looking up at several policemen, a couple of nurses, and 
about three or four doctors. He'd heard before that the city 
where he used drugs has a vigilante force comprised of judges, 
policemen, professional people, business owners, and generally 
people who didn't want drug addicts around bothering patrons to 
their businesses. 


He'd heard that addicts cost their businesses millions each year 
because customers would have a bad experience and they wouldn't 
want to come back, ever. So they formed these vigilante forces. 
He thought that the people staring down at him on the gurney 
were one of these vigilante hit squads. He begged and pleaded 
with them not to kill him. To his surprise one of the police 
officers looked at the doctors and asked them if they had a 
hammer and chuckled. 


They said to him "Don't look at the IV bag", but he did anyways, 
there was blood running back up into it from his arm. They said 
"Don't look at your arm", but he looked nonetheless. He doesn't 
remember now what he saw, but he became convinced that they 
wanted to kill him so he struggled to get away. 


The large male orderlies pinned him down on the gurney, he 
struggled and had that gurney rocking and quaking back and 
forth. It took like four or five big strong men to hold him 
down. They started jamming his arm with shot after shot of 
morphine to knock him out, then nothing...
Part 2 coming soon