Chapter 23: Skin

Tyler is faced with drugs, hard drugs.

Tyler.

Days went by painfully slow,

much slower than
they do for
non-murderers.

I sat in class,
hands folded
under my bottom

as they twitched
in anticipation.
How much longer?

Second period,
third, fourth,
lunch....

It seemed to
drag on for
eternities.

I just wanted
to see Ashley.
Gather her in

my arms, kiss
those foreign,
tender lips

and blow all
our troubles
away.


Who would've thought,

little private school
goody good was strung
on

meth.

A nasty little habit
that developed once
she came to the grand

ol' Country of America.
From sea to f*****g
shining sea. At

her best,

she told me
it was just a nasty
habit. But now newer

emotions came forth.
Dark, sinister, unforgiving
monsters. Her new best

friend.

I sat and watched her
load up the little crack
pipe. Swirls of blue and

ivory. A pretty piece of
hardware doing a dirty
job. I wondered just

where

she was able to get her
hands on such a grubby
drug. Coming from a

back round of hardcore
Christians. I had attended
church enough to know what

was

a sin and what wasn't. I held
her when the sweats broke
through, her trembling frame

draped over my own. Skin
sickly pale, clammy and
fragile. I wondered if it was

my

responsibility to find her
help, or if that'd just result
in her pushing me away.
 
Speaking of pushing
people away. I hadn't
spoken to Emily since

her abandonment in
the woods. I saw her
at school, my former

best

friend. Now seemingly
a stranger to me. My
circle of friends quickly

collapsed, meaning I only
ever saw her in the halls.
Who was her new best

friend?

The first time I smoked,

               Ashley and I had just had
sex for our first time.

              (With each other of course).
She had lost hers a long

              time ago. Drunk at a dorm
party back in Surrey, England.

              Mine? Taken by little
Monica Dwight. Blond

              pigtails curled into
devil's horns. Precious

              kisses stolen in the back
of our middle school

              classroom. Moments
I'd never get back under

              race car sheets I hadn't
quite outgrown.

"Round two?"

              I was confused about where
her little 110 pound frame

              found the energy to keep
at it for so long. But I was

               young, fresh and ready to
go all night.

"Wait!"

               I knew what my darling
Ashley was going to propose

                 before she said the words.
Watched her frail,

                  shaking wrist reach back
to her bedside table to pick

                   up the familiar glass tube,
the bowl filled with tiny
    
                   transparent crystals.
It was her thing to

                  indulge in such harmful games.
 I wasn't here to preach.

"Just a couple times baby."

               I shake my head diligently.
Set in my ways,

               and there was no way
those little crystals of

              death were going to
permeate their way

               into my lungs and
not to mention brain.
 
               Where I knew they'd do
a lot more damage than pot.

"Please! For me."

Those pouty lips,

her big blue eyes
staring down at my

own as she lunged
forward hungrily.

Rubbing skin against

skin.

The lust burning in
her eyes was clearly

something I wouldn't
 understand until I tried

 the crystal's dark magic.

"I need you!"

This close. To reaching
for that pipe. That close

 from the life threatening
addiction that came along

with this monster. To

be

honest. I wasn't nearly
as frightened of what

the drug would do to me.
More of what my mother

would do. Even though my life was

mine.

My mother wouldn't
hear any excuse as to

why I would do such
a thing to our family

before kicking me out. I'd

wrap

up my things. Run to
Ashley and we'd get

a shabby apartment
somewhere. Not exactly

on the good side of the city.

Me.

Tyler Hunter. Wild and free.
It had a nice ring to it, a

sort of theme song touch.
 The idea of living with

Ashley on my own sent shivers

up

and down my spine. Life
would be too perfect.

But not quite. No matter
how many layers I piled

on in an attempt to

keep

myself safe and guilt
free. It never worked.

I could still feel it there,
a dimly lit coal. Pulsing

far too brightly at times for

me

to handle. Too many secrets,
not enough time spent with

her yet. Not enough to keep
me sane. The secrets were

the only thing keeping me

safe.