It's All in the Way You Carry Yourself

one-shot

He’s jogging across a main highway hoping to reach the mall parking lot before his dealer takes off. The lie he carries with him for safe keeping is that he can’t control his need for a quick fix. Step one drilled into his brain. The truth follows him around though, like a dim shadow he can’t shake. It screams the words: addiction, loss, failure, and family. He shrugs it off and repeats his lie a few times, even adds in the fact that he’s nothing like the addicts he sees on the street, for good measure, until he spots his relief.

He leaves the sketchy scenario he finds himself in almost every other night with a new baggie in his pocket, replacing the 40 bucks he just had. He can’t find solitude quick enough so he starts his jog again. He reaches an old ford taurus and hops into the passenger seat.

“Thanks again for the ride man, 'preciate it.”

The driver answers with a tight nod and starts the car up. They head back to his house, the only noise that fills the car ride home is the faint sound of the radio rapping to them in the background. When they finally pull down the familiar street the silence is broken when the passenger speaks up.

“Hey, don’t tell my daughter about this, please. I just don’t want another argument, you know?”

“Yeah, I got you.”

They both exit the still purring vehicle and walk up to the front door of the house that is home to more than it should be. The music can be heard from the yard, he checks his pocket before they enter, not risking the chance something might have happened to his drugs. He sips in a sigh of both relief and preparation.

His driver steps into the party first, the atmosphere instantly calms the man and he smiles as the girls greet him with ear to ear smiles. The addict dips out of view and runs up the stairs into his shared bedroom and locks the door. His hand buries into his pocket and he takes out his addiction; his escape route in a bag. He looks down and shakes off the feeling of guilt for the second time that night and closes his eyes. I have no power over this. I need it. I can’t help it. It’s not my fault. I can control myself afterwards. This is the last time. I’m going to get better. He can’t remove the flood of thoughts that cycle through his head until his high is obtained.

He walks back down the stairs, euphoric. As he reaches the bottom step, his daughter is exiting the bathroom just across from the staircase.

“Hey, dad. Where have you been?”

He can already sense the accusation in her tone and his eyes are briefly averted. His guilt is gone now and he answers cooly. He was made to lie like this, he muses.

“Oh you know, just hanging out. Headed up to the bar to shoot a little pool.” The lies come out smooth and fluid, his smile assures her he’s telling the truth and the nagging feeling in her heart reaches for a glimmer of hope. She tells herself he seems fine. In fact he does seem fine for the next hour.

Then he starts to fidget, he sniffs the air hoping to clear his nose of an imaginary cold, and her hopes are shattered once again. She doesn’t understand how expected disappointment still kills her every time, the little girl who adored her father through the eyes of a 5 year old is finally gone for good.

“Wow, Dad. Nice.” Its all she says, too exhausted to fight this battle any longer.

He doesn’t care. He has no control. He needs it. He gives her a light, playful punch to the shoulder and walks away.

The truth has faded, until he’s ready for his next fix. I’ll worry about it then.

Reviews

[emmy bon]

it will be ok someday just hold on, well writing and well done.

[b.platte]

Thank you.

[Mystik]

I have lived through this more than once and I know how difficult it can be first hand. It's very well written..... I hope that for you things are better and you still cling on for hope

[b.platte]

Things are better, thank you. :) It sucks dealing with people you love being so lost to something so awful. But, you just gotta step back and think about what you can and can't control and how you can and can't help and then go from there. I took like a million steps back after a while and I feel so much lighter.

I hope your similar situations worked themselves out as well.

[Mia]

Are you going to have me oh my-ing the entire day? I hoped this wasn't written based on experience but after reading the reviews...all those hopes were shattered. I can’t separate the writing from the subject; I rarely can...so please bear with me. OH MY! The maturity it took to write this is unbelievable. Writing about our dark secrets is difficult and takes amazing courage. What’s even more amazing is that you wrote it for an understanding point of view. You tried to put yourself in his shoes and that is...I can’t even put into words what that is. If I told you that he loved you more than he loved the drugs...would you believe me? I think they do, I think all drug addicts love their family more than they love drugs...they just feel like they need the drugs more. If you asked me would I rather have someone need me or love me...i think I would pick love. I hope that means something to you. I won't be arrogant enough to think that I can heal your pain with kind words and compliments. Or arrogant enough to think that i can grasp the whole picture from this story. I know you said you're okay now, and I trust that to be true...I still want to say sorry that you had to go through that in the first place. That comes from my heart and I hope you believe that. You know I think your stories and writing abilities are amazing. This was no exception. In so few words you get so much across. Oh my!

[b.platte]

Wow, thanks for all that you said, honestly that was so appreciated.

Yes, I know he loves me more than drugs. & things are better, for me anyways. I think he's doing better, he seems like it.

I don't mind writing about my life. I'm an open book and anybody that knows me, knows I don't hide much. So it just makes sense to write and share.

I love reading your reviews, they always make me so happy. So thank you:)

[Mia]

I'm glad for that! Honestly being an open book is so great...you never have to worry about bottled up emotions exploding. I love reviewing your stuff. Everything is different and interesting and just wonderful to read. This is a win-win situation :)

[b.platte]

haha sweet

[Mia]

:D

[Kelsey]

I'm almost at a loss for words. I see you've lived through this, so for that, I'm truly sorry. I can relate, personally, and I know it's nothing any little girl should have to deal with, or so that's what I tell myself. Wonderful job, as always.

[b.platte]

Its cool. I wasn't a little girl when I had to deal with it. Thank you for reading :)

[Kelsey]

Well I'm just glad you handled it well enough to still be here. Stay strong, and if you ever need anyone to talk to, please don't hesitate to message me. (:

[Catherine L]

Great read - I like the struggle that the character has with himself. You show that well.

[b.platte]

Thank you :)

[Catherine L]

I take your writing as the struggle between what he knows he should do vs what he does. To find the courage to face his life and those who are in it with him. The drug addiction is secondary to this inner struggle. We all have our "addiction" that keeps us from facing ourself and our life. You've expressed your experience with a keen eye. It's written from a place of maturity but shows the broken heart of a child.

[b.platte]

That's very flattering, thank you. I just tried to think about what he goes through in a way to try and understand it, i think? it was therapeutic.

[MachinaWriter]

Very good. The only thing I would suggest is maybe adding in details about him using the drug. Not just him getting it, then disappearing and coming out. That's the part that will draw a feeling of understanding from people who have been through this. And maybe replace the word drug with some metaphors. Depending on what kind of drug it is. The fidget makes me guess that he's on some sort of upper, and for forty dollars I'm guessing crack. And when I say replace the word, I'm not talking about street terms for it. I'm talking about unique ways of describing it. The fact that uppers make your mind twitch, like there's an oversized cockroach in your head, its pointy legs pressing at all the wrong neurons, scratching away at the inside of your brain until you feel that the only way to get it to stop crawling around is to take in the foul-smelling smoke, which burns through your lungs like burnt cellophane. Stuff like that.

I like the touch about him being a smooth liar. All addicts are. I learned to lie to everyone, so naturally and so easily. It comes with the territory, so that was a great addition. Just a few more metaphors and you'd be good. Addicts practically live in their heads, except for the few brief moments of euphoria when they can blot it out. Anyways, thanks for this read. I enjoyed it a lot.

[b.platte]

Thanks for such a detailed review!

Yes, I didn't see it before, but now that you've pointed it out it could use a more metaphors, I've read through it again and when I have time I'll add some. I don't know if I'll get into the sensations he gets when on the drugs or exactly his way of taking them, though.

This story is actually about my dad, when he lived with me and my friends for a few months. It was my way of getting it out and trying to give him an angle of how I saw him, that was still outside myself. I emailed this to him right before he went to jail and I didn't know enough about actually using crack to write about it... plus that would've have been incredibly awkward for him to read all my mistakes of how he might feel when on drugs.

But maybe when I feel more settled with it I'l go back and have a go at it.

Thanks again, so much. I'm glad you did enjoyed reading it.

[MachinaWriter]

I got the feeling that this was coming from a personal place, and I admire your courage in writing about it. I especially liked the ending. Its always tough for the people we care about when we get wrapped up in addiction. I feel for you in that respect. It was a good story, and you're a great writer. Thanks for sharing this.

[b.platte]

:)