(A/N I need a cover! Please submit me something on twitter @zachsnacks. This is sort of a filler, I'm trying to set up dominoes before I push them over.)
Logan
Leaving my old life behind was easy. The new life that was now unfolding in front of me was what made it all start worth while. The sex, the drugs, and all the beer to drink. I don’t remember much of how I ended up in Arizona at some shitty bar, but I knew I loved the high. I knew there was nothing better than the feeling of having something to relive the pain right in your pocket. There is nothing like being able to forget everyone and everything. There was nothing like the high that kept me away from all of the reasons why I should have stayed.
I remember the first time I ever experimented with drugs. It was two nights after I left home. I was at a truck stop or something along the lines of that, I just remember the lights reminded of a good murder scene. I walked into the store and immediately went for the Advil. The cashier made a joke about how I was too young to have a hangover, which I countered back with the fact I was eighteen and could do what I damn please. But then I felt that stupid tug on the back of my neck like I was choking. I felt like I couldn't breathe, I threw the cash down and walked out of the gas station. It was about twelve o’clock at night and a older man came up to me and asked what the hell I was doing at his gas station.
“Well sir if I knew the chain of gas stations you owned I would learn where to stop and where to go by so I don’t have to encounter assholes like you.” I walked passed the older looking man, with a sense of satisfactory. He then pushed me against the gas station wall and laughed, then his entourage came out from their hiding places. I looked around and counted how many visible threats were in the area. I began to struggle out of the man’s hands when he let me go.
“I like you kid.” He said, he smirked and it revealed he had the stereotypical gold tooth. I then learned who he really was, just a biker who never found his way back home, and he became my tour guide of the life I chose. The biker gang that stopped me seemed to be straight out of a movie. Next thing I knew I was in a bar with them and telling them pretty much everything. Then the drugs came into play, I don’t know what was first, I just remember identifying it as a threat. It’s crazy how much I was wrong. You see the thing about the high was also the chase. The chase to feel something so amazing and so wrong at the same time. I felt like I could take on God and all his angels when I had a good line in my system.
Two or maybe three weeks later here I was in Arizona, in the bar that I learned to call home for the past two days. I walked into the bathroom after laughing at some god forsaken joke about a crack whore and a preacher. I walked in and was terrified about what I saw in the mirror. It wasn't me in the mirror, it was a shattered me. It was me trying to put places where they didn't fit. It was the feeling like I belonged when I was with these people, but its not what I was searching for. The nostalgia hits me and leaves as soon as it comes. Richy comes in with a new bag, saying its the “good stuff.” The good stuff always tore the whole world apart in a beautiful way.
I walked out of the bathroom with my buddy Richy and joined back into the crowd. It’s amazing how great it felt to be with these group of adults who are like me when they were younger. It felt like my own twisted version of home, but something called out through the jokes, and the talk of drugs and sex. It was something that reminded me of a real home. It was Jordan singing to me about something she learned at school, it was Karen and Scott telling me how much they were worried sick when I was out too late, and it was the sound of a order being called out at Pete’s. I ran out of the bar, unbalanced with the drugs still in full effect. I was still a rookie at mixing the alcohol and the “good stuff” so the others probably thought I was throwing up. But I found myself reaching for more pills in that parking lot. The tears wouldn't stop and the noises of everything familiar kept echoing at me tormenting me. I would've done anything to just go back.
I took the painkillers I had left in my personal baggy and looked around, the thought that this was going to be my last thought before living this life. I knew with my record and beliefs I was not getting a escort into heaven.
It was that moment of relief, to know my path that was so satisfying. That I knew what would happen when I took one too many.
My thought process was interrupted by lights. I knelled down before the lights and awaited my fate. Maybe death wasn't something you experience maybe it just happens and you go to the light. I was knelled before my fate was bestowed upon me. Then I saw her, an absolute angel. That’s when I realized she couldn't be an angel, because she would be my biggest sin.
