no men’s or women’s; there was just this room with stalls lining one wall, urinals on the other, and a single sink with a smudged, cracked mirror. It wasn’t a hygienic place, yet there were still times when you’d walk in on some dude wall-banging the shit out of some chick. It was no big deal to take a piss next to a couple going at it.
I zipped up my jeans and went to the sink to rinse my hands. There was never soap in the dispenser so I didn’t bother. Using my shirt as a towel, I turned to go. A flash of white stood out against the grimy wall and I stopped in my tracks when I noticed a miniscule blond girl balled up in the corner. She was rocking back and forth with her knees drawn up to her chin. Her platinum locks were plastered to her sweaty face and her glazed, red eyes rolled back in her head.
I knew a geeked-out broad when I saw one. I’d probably find out tomorrow that some chick overdosed in the bathroom. It’s happened often, but no one really paid attention, so neither did I when I turned and walked away. The least I could do was stop by the bar and let someone know she was in there before I got back on stage.
Before I could make it to the door, she spoke.
“Please help me.” Her voice shivered.
She had a soft voice. Not raspy and deep like most women I knew. They all smoked, and hacking up a lung had changed their voices. Instead, her voice was smooth and as small as she was. I turned back to her and she looked up at me with glistening blue eyes. They weren’t rolling back in her head anymore; now they were wide in fear.
It was then that I took in her clothes—khaki pants and a white button-up collared shirt. Definitely not the low-cut jeans and high-cut tops the girls I knew wore. She had clean fingernails and no makeup.
How had I not noticed her there before? She stuck out like a whore in church. Except in this case it was the direct opposite. She stuck out like an angel in hell.
Either way, I wasn’t going to be fooled. She was probably some rich bitch that came to The Pit for a fix and hid it from her wealthy friends, but then again, it was the loaded ones that had the best shit. Again, I wondered what she was doing in such a vile place, wrapped in all that innocence.
“Please,” she whispered. “Something’s wrong with me.”
She slid up the ceramic tiles and then used the wall to hold herself up.
The stage and my band were calling me. I didn’t have time for this shit. I needed to walk out, let the bartender know some chick was fucked up in the bathroom, and then get back to my guitar. Except, the more I looked down at her, the more I knew I wouldn’t be able to just walk away. Something about her seemed legit and part of me knew she wasn’t here to score drugs.
It wasn’t in my nature to give a shit, so it made me angry that I kind of did. I didn’t want to see this chick get hurt and she would, since she was obviously out of her element.
“Shit,” I growled as I closed the distance between us.
She flinched like I was going to hurt her when I lifted my hands to her face. Her flinch angered me. I’d never hurt a female, but I imagine I did look scary to this petite, straight-laced girl. Her pale skin got whiter and started to blend with her sandy strands of hair. Her baby-blue eyes took on a whole new fear as I moved in closer and used my fingers to open her eyelids wider.
Upon closer inspection, I could see that her bloodshot eyes were severely dilated. Empty black dots surrounded by a sea of blue swam inside her eye sockets. She was definitely on something.
“What did you take?” I asked roughly.
She looked at me like I was insane. Her silky forehead puckered in confusion.
“I didn’t take anything, I swear,” she slurred.
“Did anybody give you anything, maybe a piece of candy or something powdery?”
My fingers slid down her face to the side of her neck to check her pulse and she stiffened. As I suspected it would be, her heart was beating too slowly. She was tripping on something and