“You wanna know about her state of mind?” I ask. He nods his head as I laugh manically. “She jumped off a fuckin’ bridge man. Isn’t that enough? You think you need more than that? Fuck you and fuck off!” I spit at him before I turn and walk away.
Those visions still haunt me. Her hair floating in the wind as she leapt, the sound of horns blaring, and tires squealing below. The emptiness I felt when I knew she was truly gone this time and I’d never see her smile again.
Chapter 2
Whitley
They say laughter is the best medicine, right? I laugh hysterically as Brian overdoses. How the hell do you stop when you’re this far gone? You simply can’t. He lies there with foam and other shit just oozing out of his mouth, but I just can’t stop laughing. What a way to go. Lying on a dingy floor in an old rundown apartment that holds nothing more than homeless and junkies. That’s what I’m doing here.
I lay back on the floor as the laughter just keeps flowing out of me. I reach over and flick Brian’s arm, but he doesn’t move. Maybe he’s really gone this time? Maybe he finally did what I didn’t. He actually died. Oh, I’ve died before, don’t get me wrong. Twice, to be exact. Every goddamn time they would fucking bring me back. I don’t even know why! I wanted to die. If I didn’t, why the hell would I have overdosed myself? I’m not that fucking stupid. I know how much of this shit I can take for the most part.
“Brian,” I whisper his name as if he may speak up and answer me. What a fucking joke.
“Brian!” I try yelling this time. Nothing. No movement. Absolutely fucking nothing.
“Whit? You here?” I laugh harder when I hear Megan. She always wants to ruin my goddamn high. She’s so into herself. Megan Conner, rich bitch and self-appointed drug rehabilitation counselor. I think she’s full of shit myself. I have yet to see anyone out on these streets that she’s genuinely helped in any way.
“Whit?” she calls out again. Just hearing her say my name has me laughing even harder, or maybe it’s the sparkling lights that are dancing through my vision.
“Jesus, Whitley!” she hollers when she steps into the room and sees me. Her eyes move from me to Brian before she rushes to his side. I vaguely hear her on the phone calling for an ambulance. Why is she calling? He wanted to die. He did it on purpose, which is more than I can say for myself.
“Did you take the same thing he did?” she asks when I hear more footsteps coming. She must have called in her little goons. I keep watching the sparkles dance around me and continue to giggle.
“Whitley, did you take the same thing?” She grabs my shoulders and shakes me. I laugh even louder. I can’t stop it. The drugs are ripping apart any common sense I had, not that I had much to start with.
“No mother, I didn’t. He had his own shit,” I slur at her. Megan reaches for my neck, checking my pulse.
“Your heart is racing. We need to get you to a hospital,” she says. I shake my head, I don’t think so; I’m not going back there again. No way in fucking hell. I can hear the sirens in the distance. They can take Brian, but not me. I refuse to go back to that hell hole.
“Don’t touch me!” I snap at her. Megan has gotten used to our mouths. She isn’t intimidated by us. Why would she be? We are nothing but drugged up junkies that don’t deserve second glances.
“Enough Whit, you’re going. I don’t care how much you protest,” she says. Oh, the hell I will. She thinks she’s my mother. I shove myself up to my feet and head toward the door when one of her goons steps in front of me.
“You better move. I don’t think we want a repeat of what happened last time,” I warn him. Yeah, last time was very interesting. They tried to hold me in a room and I completely lost my ever-loving shit. It turned into a huge fight that I of course won by the way. Even high out of my fucking mind I was ready to scrap.
“Let her go, but follow her in case she passes out,” Megan says over her shoulder.