Short Stories

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This story is fiction. It was written by my daughter after an intense conversation with a loved one. I told her I wanted to post it here, and she agreed.


The high. I had been thinking about it all day long. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Ever. The word excited me so much my stomach would do flips. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. All I wanted was the high.

I was overly enthusiastic about it today. My dealer knew it as soon as he saw me. He's always been a little reluctant to give it to me.

"You seem so much different from other users, so much smarter," he would say. Not to mention, he wasn't into it himself. But, it's business. It's all about the sex and money he gets from me so I can get my fix.

I wasn't into 'testing' it out right there to make sure it was for real. I had been dealing with this guy for years, and I didn't like for people to see me actually doing it. I just wanted to go home, by myself, and enjoy it. It's been a couple of long, hard weeks without it, and I wanted to bask in the glow I was about to receive from it.

Carrying my prize, I studied every texture, every color, smiling like I had just found a lost puppy. I almost dropped it when I reached around to scratch the back of my head, which I did constantly when the high was around, or when I needed it. The bald spots continued to appear where I dug my nails in, ripping at an itch that in reality wasn't there. I didn't care--this small thing I held in my hand made me confident and beautiful. As long as I have it, I have nothing to worry about.

Something was different today, though. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, there was a voice that kept asking how this tiny rock could consume me the way it did. It's destroyed my life, yet I keep giving in to it. It has taken my kids, ruined my health, mentally and physically, and no one trusts me anymore. I know my family is worried, yet I continue to bow down to it, like a slave.

I could throw it away, right now, without thinking twice. I could flush it--that way I won't go back later to find it. I can regain my strength, my willpower, and my life! I don't need this.

At this point, I'm stopped on the sidewalk, scratching my head while cars ride by, seemingly laughing at me, as I contemplate. I should just throw it.

Wait! I know as soon as I get strong and determined, someone will come around with it, or I'll realize it's in someone else's bloodstream, and I'll get sick again, so sick from the urge my body won't allow me to turn away. My control only goes so far. I'll never quit! It's just not in the cards for me.

I round the corner and head to my apartment. I put my rock away when I see the neighbors outside. They get the same high as me, and if they even suspect I have any, I'll get mugged. There's no way that's happening again! It's surprising that happens, since I'm a bit heavier than most users, and these girls here are really strung out. Very, very skinny. You could see their skulls protruding through the thin, pimpled skin on their faces. Their hair was never done up, constantly shoved back to cover their balding scalps, a comb stuck on the side. I wonder if that's how I look sometimes? I don't want to know the answer.

"Hey, hey, you got some that good stuff?" the shorter one was right in my face, almost whispering, and oh, her breath!

"Naw. Man, I told you I don't smoke any more," I said, annoyed. I just wanted to go upstairs. Now, the other one was standing in my way.

"You know Crystal down the way, right? Right? Homegirl was killed last night, right on the corner. Yeah. Yeah. She didn't want to give up the stuff."

"Are you threatening me? I told you, I don't have none," I told them, fed up at this point.

"Naw, go on girl. I know you'll have some next time," she tipped her head back and let out an awful laugh.

I ran for what seemed like hours upstairs and opened the door. I got out the contents of my pocket and dropped it on the table.

What was wrong with me today? Why do I feel so scared of this all of a sudden? I sat there, just staring at it. I don't know what I was waiting for, I don't even think a thought crossed my mind in that time. I wanted something. My rock never moved, or glowed like the miracle I thought it was, and it wasn't talking today.

That was all the answer I needed. I grabbed my high and flushed it down the kitchen sink.

I don't know how things will go when it's around me again, but for now, I'm not letting a rock control my existence and that's all it does. Controls you. I feel strong right now. This feels better than any high I've had.

Please pray for me. My name is Kolby.

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