Young Lust

The engine of the convertible DeVille roared through the unlit, desert, away from distant city lights.

“Sherry, baby, be a doll and hand me another dose,” I said, without looking at her.

            She began to reach into her purse, her neon-colored fingernails glowing in the night.

            “Not from the pack, dear, glove compartment.”

            She wore nothing but the white slip she had underneath her wedding gown during the ceremony earlier this evening.

            We had met this morning, her walking into a smoky casino where I had been, down by nearly fifty biggies.  I had chosen Liar’s Dice today, probably not a wise choice, but I had been feeling lucky.

            The bazooka I had railed the night before had kept me up for almost fourteen hours, and was beginning to take its toll.  I watched her out of the corner of my eye as the dealer laid his cup.

            “Call.”

            I placed my bet and watch the fates tip against me yet again.  I was about to stand up and call it quits, when the smell of her Lolita Lempicka slipped into my nostrils.  Casually, without looking up at her, I raised my cup to her lips.

            “Be a dear?”

            I heard her blow softly on the cup and the dice within.

            I laid my hand, and walked away 100 biggies in the lead.

            By noon, we had spent half the dough on drugs, booze and renting the DeVille we now presided in.

            By dusk we were married, shortly after injecting each other with double-doses of speedball.

            “I think I love you,” is what I had told her, as the world around me exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors and light.

 

Now she rummaged around in the glove department, taking her time getting me another fix.

            Ten minutes later I had had enough.

            “Let me, d****t,” I reached over and immediately found the needle.

            “You gonna do that while driving,” she asked, dreamily.

            “You gonna do it for me?  You don’t look like you could hit the broad side of a barn with this thing.”

A little mean, but I needed a fix pronto.

             I put the rubber band between my teeth, stretching it until my vein throbbed.

She looked in the glove compartment.

            “That’s the last hit,” she yelled.

            “It’s mine,” I replied.

            “You had the last one!”

            She grabbed for the needle, and I pulled it back. 

            She yanked it and I let go.  There was a sick crunching, squirting sound and I looked at her to see what she’d done now.

            The needle protruded from her left breast, the syringe plunged all the way down into her heart.

            She looked at the needle, then me.

            “Don’t you hate it when that happens?”  She half-grinned.

            I felt gravel beneath the vehicle and turned back just in time to see us go veering off the road and head-first into what I had just enough time to realize was a rusty, old barn.

            “S**t.”

            It was all I could say.

 

 

 

Reviews

[pandorascollar]

This is very well writen. It is an amazing plot also and I just love that sentance when the main character told her he loved her and how you described the way he felt.

[A. H. Pinley]

Life in the fast lane. Drugs, leave you a wreck after the party's over.