Chapter 22: Blood On My Hands

Jocelyn was already inside by the time we got back. We went in through the front door. Jocelyn was inside Ariel's room, ranting about me… Me and Kiera looked at each other as we listened. Fucking bitch this, fucking bitch that. Fuck him, fuck her…

Kiera gave me all 4 baggies, but I told her I was being serious about giving her one. She gave me a quick hug and kissed my cheek. She pulled away and with a sad smile as she shut her bedroom door. I took a deep breath and entered Gordo's room with boldness…

"Ayy, there you are," Gordo said. We slapped palms and I handed him his baggie. I walked up to Jocelyn and gave her a baggie, neither of us making eye contact with each other. She stood up and walked out the room without a word. Gordo shrugged at me. Ariel kept her eyes away from mine, looking pissed off…

"How did it go?"

"It went alright," I said. "Guy was fucking weird."

"Who, Jeff? Yeaah, he a tweaker alright. Only reason I ain't kill him for his dope, ayyy?" Gordo smiled, masking the truth of his statement…

"What's up with Jocelyn?" I whispered to Gordo.

"You should probably talk to her, holmes. She pissed at you!" Gordo laughed as he taste tested the glass on his tongue. I took his advice and looked for Jocelyn. I heard her car turn on in the front driveway…

I ran out and saw her speed off like a demon. I held my arms up in confusion. My phone calls went straight to voicemail. I couldn't eat the bitterness in my heart… The tears soaked my cheeks. I felt used and abandoned. It wasn't about the money. $100 is nothing. I wanted her to talk to me.

I went inside and almost knocked on Kiera's door, but decided that I needed to be alone… But first, I needed a hit. I took a heartbreaking hit of dope smoke into my brain, put my stash in the guest bedroom and set off for the streets.

2am

I've been walking for a while. I claimed a curb as a seat, repeatedly standing and sitting back down again and again like a ritual. I did not know what to do. Every time I thought of Jocelyn, my heart squeezed into itself. I checked my phone, hoping to see anything from her whilst ignoring the rest of the world trying to contact me. If it weren't for the opportunity of Jocelyn messaging me, I would have smashed my phone into the pavement, ready to depart from society…

I migrated to a bus stop. The lines weren't running, so nobody was coming to pick me up. Nobody else occupied the streets; it was surprisingly quiet for crackhead territory.

Cigarettes had become a part of my very being. I took a drag as deep as my lungs would permit, like an addict taking his last hit before calling it quits. Even the thought of taking a break had totally left my mind. If anything, I needed more dope to cope with the pain. I could always start walking back to Gordo's, but I was pretty fucking high already. I wondered if it was possible to smoke an entire cigarette with one inhale? I attempted to kill the stogie, only burning it halfway before I coughed up the stale smoke from my burning lungs.

I walked the empty sidewalks for a while. This place was ghetto, so it was just asphalt and dirt on the side of the road. I found a strange shaped rock and kicked it along for about an hour.

"Sup bro?"

I clenched my fists and turned toward the voice. It was a short white kid, skinny with zero muscle definition and ratty hair. His oversized clothes swallowed him. He looked harmless enough.

"My bad, didn't mean to startle you," the guy said, his voice strangely high pitched.

I dropped my fists. "You're good. What's up?"

The guy put his hands in his pockets. "Just looking for company. My mom's tripping on me right now so I left the crib."

The guy was giving me the creeps. He looked terribly unconfident with his shoulders slouched forward, shaky beta voice, maximized pupils, an unsettling smile…

I looked around for any reason to leave. I crossed the street toward the gas station. The guy followed me without saying a word.

"Saaay… You wouldn't happen to smoke g, do you?"

"G funk?"

"I got some. Do you want to smoke with me?"

Fuck. It was difficult to resist the offer, considering I left my stash at Gordo's… "No, I'm okay…"

"Aww, pleeeease! I just met a friend and I want to show him—show you a good time!"

"I don't have any money on me," I said.

"That's okay, I just want some company," the man said, his voice shaky and desperate.

"Fine…"

"Yay!" The man skipped toward a dumpster. I followed him, checking all my surroundings to prevent myself getting jumped, stabbed, shanked, robbed, raped… Not today.

We stood behind the dumpster. It smelled like wet trash bags. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the biggest bag of dope I'd ever seen. Why the hell would you travel with a stash that big? And why would he trust me, a stranger, enough to show it off like this? Just one punch to the nose bone and I could take off with his supply… But I was not possessed by the devil. He was lucky.

He pulled out a pipe that was completely burnt black on the outside of the bowl. Disgusting. That is exactly the reason why you have to be delicate with the flame. The guy took a hit, covering the entire bowl in flames. I shook my head. He passed me the pipe. I took a hit and gagged; the pipe was way too burnt and likely had some nasty residue on the inside.

"Fuck that man, let me just take a bump."

The guy obliged and pulled out a single key not attached to a keychain or anything. I took a bump and felt the scabs in my nostrils burst open with blood.

"Good stuff, huh?" he awkwardly leaned forward and tapped me on the chest.

"Yeah, yeah…" In reality, it was bunk and I didn't feel any effects from it. No wonder why he had such a big stash; it was terrible, probably home-made in the trailer park…

I lit up a cigarette and exited the dumpster area. The guy followed behind me.

"You ever been in a threesome?"

I turned around with disgust. "What?!"

"Two girls? I always wanted to. I almost did, but my buddy came over so I just watched him instead…"

The reality of the situation kicked in. I was face-to-face with a cuck and I wanted to sprint far, far away… Maybe clear my sinuses all over the pavement in fear that I would catch the cuck bug from his dope.

"Alright, I'm going to leave now. Goodbye. Please don't follow me."

"Hey hey, don't go…" the guy trailed behind me and touched my arm a few times. "I gave you some, now I want some—"

I pushed him away. "HEY! Fuck off!"

The man rushed me and wrapped his arms around my waist and humped me like a dog.

"GET THE FUCK—" I decked his face with my forearm then gave him a left hook. I felt violated and began to see red. The man was on the ground. I grabbed his nasty hair and bashed the back of his skull against the pavement a few times, then connected my knuckles across his cheeks.

"STOP! Stop! Stop… Please… Ackkk…"

I stopped. He wasn't fighting back. I saw a pool of blood underneath his head and a mangled face beneath me, crying, pleading for mercy…

Fuck. I took off running in any direction as far away as I could, never looking back. I had never sprinted faster and longer in my life. I managed to enter a populated area with many business establishments. Blood was on my knuckles and shirt. I took off my shirt and cleaned my hands with it then tossed the shirt into a bush.

I saw a 24-hour McDonalds was open. I snuck into the bathroom. A woman that looked to have snitch tendencies spotted me and went to get an employee. I speed-washed my hands and face of any blood splatters. There wasn't much, but even a drop could give my situation away…

"Sir? You can't be in here," an employee said.

"Why not?" I said as I dried my face with a paper towel.

"No shirts, no service…"

"Fuck you." I walked past him and left the building. My heart was beating heavily, my body pumping full of adrenaline… I was in the clear now. I felt liberated to be walking around the city shirtless. My knuckles were messed up from hitting the dude's face, but at least I got away. Did I overreact? I don't know. Did he deserve it? For sure. I cringed at what just happened to me. What the fuck was he thinking?

Somehow, a new rush of dope began to pulse in my body. It definitely wasn't the bunk stuff I just snorted. Regardless, I had a new quest in mind. I jogged back to Gordo's. Along the way, I had another idea. I should visit Jocelyn. I changed my route and jogged, then walked for a few hours.

5am

I entered the luxury neighborhood and felt serenity at the sight of Jocelyn's mansion. I noticed a motorcycle that I'd never seen before parked next to Jocelyn's Mustang. No big deal, rich people are always buying cars left and right, yeah? But her mom's car wasn't there… The door was cracked open.

I let myself inside, darting my eyes around every corner. I tiptoed up the spiraling staircase and down the hall to Jocelyn's room. I heard the voice that I fell in love with, moaning alongside a man's grunts…

I burst through the door. It was Zack, the biker-boy I met in Jocelyn's backyard. He was deep inside of my woman as she writhed beneath him. Jocelyn's vanity was littered with the dope I just bought her. Her eyes were shut as she exposed her neck to Zack and turned her head toward me. Her eyes flashed open, sensing my presence.

"Kashi?! What the fuck?! Wait, I can explain—"

Everything went through a vortex. I was frozen in my anger. Zack had gotten up and into my face. I was looking right past him toward Jocelyn. He pushed me hard. I was not prepared for it. My body shattered Jocelyn's walk-in closet mirror, glass scattering all over me and her pink carpet. I could barely make out Jocelyn screaming for Zack to stop.

I stood up. Zack punched me in the face but I did not feel it. I ate the punch and it galvanized me. I saw red once again. I delivered my own flurry of blows to his face, knocking him to the ground. I grabbed his hair to bounce it against the floor, just like I did earlier, but Zack was fighting back. My ribs were screaming in pain from his hits, so I knocked him with my fist again and again until he stopped resisting. I felt his nose shatter underneath my knuckles.

I had the urge to kill him. I grabbed a big piece of glass from the ground and held it to his throat. My hand was becoming lacerated from squeezing the glass so tight. I looked at Jocelyn who had stopped screaming. She stopped when our eyes met. She was crying. I was crying, despite my face twisted in fury. I dropped the glass, spit on Zack then left.

I was once again covered in blood. I pushed Zack's bike to the ground. I darted out of the neighborhood at a sprint, astonished that I still had energy left within me. Each step rattled my ribs that were definitely bruised.

I only had one thought in mind. Get back to my stash. Smoke my brains away. This was my life now. I'd rather die young than grow old, so fill me up with dope and let me leave this wasteful existence… In with the smoke, out with the pain. Take this feeble life away from me.