Alluring Savage

Five years ago, I met a beautiful young lady that I grew fond of. I was the “bad boy” type at the time. I came from Wall Street and was superior to the half-baked drug dealers on my block. Whatever you needed, I had it. Methamphetamine, crack cocaine and black tar heroin were a few of my best sellers. When I met Willow, she was a middle-class lady that knew how to carry herself. The way she swayed her hips drove me crazy. The way she wore her bleached blonde hair back with strands of hair framing her face. What a gorgeous face she had! She made me want to become a better person. However, my darkness washed over her and she was no longer the sweetheart I had met. She became addicted to the bullshit that killed my brain one cell at a time. Late night calls were no longer for me, but rather a way to feed her addiction. We both knew I liked the chase. I’d feed her addiction just to be in her presence. I felt like an animal every time I saw her. Her actions were so cruel, but she knew I wanted her more than anything. She was my addiction.

It was a dark and silent day on September 20th, 1995. My heart died when Willow’s drug-infested body did. The only way her dark side would vanish is if she did. I couldn’t help but blame myself for her dependency on these chemical substances. Every day she begged me for more. Her anger had grown immensely and she became violent. I never blamed her. I blamed the drugs that ran through her bloodstream. This was the first time I had felt remorse for a friend perishing into the unknown. I ran home that day to fill my body with toxic chemicals. As they filled my blood stream, I saw Willow. She was still as beautiful as the day I had met her on Wall Street. I wanted her to know that I was sorry for ruining her life. She touched my shoulder as I broke down in tears and my vision began to blur. “Forgive me,” I told her silhouette presence.

I was in a coma for a month as my family prayed for God's forgiveness. I went to rehab and cleaned up. Not for myself, but for Willow’s spirit that lives inside of me. It was five years ago that my life collapsed like a small child taking their first step. The memories inside of me survived when I tried to alleviate the pain. My idea of surviving was to ignore the voices that haunted my presence. A thing most brutish had stood before me once like a shadow. It’s silhouette was so beautiful and captivating, but its touch was poisonous. I can still see her gap toothed smile and hear her soft-spoken voice. I visit her grave every day with red roses to keep the love between us alive. I talk to her for hours as if she is still present. I continue to feed my addiction as she lies peacefully beneath the surface I walk. I will never forget September 20th, 1995.