There is a terrible stench everywhere. Sheets, clothes, curtains and that damn sofa on which we spend hours and hours without strength. Thrown there, like dirty laundry.
I don’t drink, it makes me sick. He does. Badly. He devastates himself. He starts doing it right away, as soon as he opens his eyes, at any time. Ketamine dinner. We decided to quit the heroin. Silence. I don’t say a word, neither does he. Yet I would like to throw up on him all the thoughts that i dragged with me like boulders for days, for months, for too long. “Come on, what are you waiting for?”. He is impatient, nervous, aggressive, as always. I watch it, before I take a sniff of the ketamine. I still love him so much. Or at least I think I love him. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I have a confused mind, a broken heart. I feel, I do not feel. I do not know anymore. “Hurry up! The others are coming and then we go out with them. There is that ‘party’. I want to go there. You do as you please “. I hate his friends but I have to be with them to make him happy. They arrive. The usual three. They stink of alcohol, too. Like him. I feel like throwing up. They hobble and drink. Beer, wine. The room is full of empty bottles, scattered on the floor among litter and cigarette butts. Parties and 10 ketamine bags a day, every hour, every moment. These are our days. I was convinced that he loved me and that he would never abandon me. I was terrified at the thought of losing him, I was out of my mind because I thought he preferred other girls. We had decided to love each other, to live together, and to share everything. “Together we will make it”, he always told me. “You won’t have to worry about anything. I will take care of you. I got into the right turns. We will always have heroin. I’ll make you feel like a queen ”. With the heroin in between everything was fine, I was neither paranoid nor possessive. And I endured everything about him. But it’s different now. I am 19 and I am destroyed. Maybe that’s why he treats me like this? We wanted to stop, at least for a while. “I don’t want to see you at the station anymore, Im awful. Let’s try “. We were slumped on the bed. Two skeletal bodies, lying on a filthy mattress. I could feel his tired embrace, his broken voice trying to reassure me, while reassuring himself. Small, young bodies who had loved each other intensely before ruining everything. We had to ask for help, instead of relying on our recklessness, on the blatant presumption of being able to get ourselves out of that shit on our own. “Are you ready? We go to the party. Move”. I crawled into the bathroom. I can not stand them. I can not stand it. He’ll be angry with me again tonight. I look at the bluish spots that color here and there my arms, legs, and back. Damn, the one on my face is too visible … I would like to stay locked here, but I’m afraid to stay home alone. I could leave tonight while we’re at that party. Before I get high as I always do and find myself lying somewhere, while the daylight reminds me that I have to go and look for him to go home. He keeps the keys, he never wanted to leave them to me. His blackmail, like so many others. I leave the bathroom and follow them, again this time. It will be the last night, the last time. I will ask for help, this time I have to do it. I put my cell phone in my backpack. It’s loaded, I’ll call mom. I haven’t heard from her in a long time, but she’ll help me. I know it will help me. Mdma, cocaine, ketamine. “Come on baby, let’s have fun. You are my queen”. My back is sweaty. I find it hard to move. I open my eyes. The dawn lights remind me of another time that I have to go looking for him. I can sit up, I’m on a meadow, next to a tree. There is dirt everywhere and it smells like vomit. My backpack is there, thrown on the ground. From the pocket you can see the cell phone. I take it. ‘Mom’. There is a message from her on whatsapp. ‘Honey where are you? I answered you last night, but you didn’t tell me anything. You did not speak. Write me something. Tell me something”. Mom, I tried to ask you for help, but hell, how difficult it is. I’ll make it tonight. I leave it, I leave everything. I swear to you mom. I do tonight.
R.
Taken from “Sanpanews – voci per crescere” N°52 January 2021″
To Find out more: https://www.sanpatrignano.org/sostienici/sanpanews-voci-crescere/
