Just don't cut my face

I completed my 28 days of methadone detox. I was feeling pretty good about myself. When I kicked the $50 a day habit, I was able to slow down. I was sitting on the rocks at the civic center one night. The rocks were part of a public structure with a fountain in the middle. The night breeze in SF changes the water from fountain to hose. We moved higher up to stay dry. I am drinking a 40oz when I find my new boyfriend. He had a black eye and a bald head. These were all the things I needed to know.

My new boyfriend was not a heroin addict. He would drink and lose his mind. He was not used to someone like me. I was not a social person after coming off of a year in a nod. I have maintained by room through a combination of county welfare and tricks. I was recovering from a horrible case of hepatitis A that allowed the county to maintain my welfare checks with just a phone interview.

I am going out. Where are you going? I need money. Chipping again. I thought you got off that shit. I am off of it. At least for a few days. I took some pills Kat gave me. I am okay but I need some money. Don't go. Yes I have to. I'm telling you not to fucking go. You are all fucked up. I will be right back.

As I head out from the hotel, my legs became heavy. How many pills did I take anyway? Two or three? I lost count. I was feeling shaky so I took a few more. I guess I took eight klonopin and three Xanax. As I cross in front of city hall, my vision is more and more narrow. I need money. I am walking with weights in my shoes through six feet of snow. Like a blizzard. I am frozen.

Can you tell me what time it is? What where are you? A few feet down in the stairwell. If I wasn't so close to death from the pills I would have noticed. I am boxed it here. Then I saw his friend at the top of the stairwell. I get this. I saw the kitchen knife. You know what honey, we do not have to do this. I can take my pants off. Please don't cut my face. I need my face, that innocent face that draws men to me. As I stood against the wall, he did his business. He did not need to rape me. I should have seen this a million miles away except I was too loaded to even see.

I'm putting my pants on now. As I sat and listening to him smoke crack and ramble on for what seemed like an eternity, I slid into a fog. Yes, you are right. Maybe I will come see you again. I am leaving now if that is okay with you. I do not need you to walk with me. I'm home now. No, I did not make any money. Yes, I never should have went out. I do not need anyone to hold me. I don't feel anything anymore. I guess you can hold me. i am sorry i did not listen to you. Just don't touch my fucking face.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Black Tar Heroin 10 questions answered

Image
I want to get this in one place. Here you go When was the film made? The film was made from Dec 1995 to Dec 1997. Originally the film was supposed to be for one year but I believe when HBO picked up the film they wanted two years. How were you picked for the film? Steven met a bunch of different people at the youth needle exchange. He wanted subjects that were slightly younger than me. He filmed a few other people  that never made it into the final film Were you paid for the film? No. I was not paid for the film. he bought me a hotel to stay in for a week and bought me lunch a few times. I think they left some money for me when I was in jail too. Documentary film makers, in general, don't pay their subjects. Was I friends with the other people from the film ? Sort of. I never knew Alice. I met Oreo when he was 15 or 16. He was VERY young when the film was made. His mom used to work the desk in one of the hotels I lived in. Jake and I used to hang out. At one point he had
Read more

Jamie

   Being able to fall apart is a luxury many people don’t have. They carry their burdens until it breaks them.  Miss Jamie was one of the most aesthetically pleasing  women I had ever seen in my life. She simply glowed. When she entered a room, everyone had to stop to pay attention. She took that space over. Her smile was radiant. Her energy was infectious. She was a fireball of a human. Her petite frame was always draped with carefully selected skirts, dresses, and form fitting sweaters. She paired this with her signature plum lipstick and acrylics.  She always came late in the day, usually when I had the lowest energy. Yet, I never refused her entrance. I was happy to see her. Happy to listen to her while she held court in my desk area.      On this day, Jamie was wheeled into the clinic by a person I had never seen before. Instead of scrubs, he looked as if he had woken up on the streets. He looked left like a caretaker, more like a person in need of our services. Our patients i
Read more

Another chapter in dopesick love

"Hand me the alcohol wipes" I reach over the bed " this is finally starting to drain" He hand me two packets of alcohol pads.  "Damn Tracey. How many fucking times are you going to do this to yourself?" That question rang in my mind for a month to come. I had been performing surgery on myself. I was laying on the bed of our hotel room. We had hustled all day to get the $35 we needed to stay here tonight plus money for dope. Soon, we will have to do the whole thing all over again. For now, I needed a place where I could take off my pants. I needed to lance this abscess to get the pressure off. It wasn't getting all that red or hard but it hurt to walk. I knew the signs. I knew when to go to the doctor. I had been there many times before. The clinic would slice me open and send me on my way with some sterile water and gauze to pack my wounds.   I was quite the amateur doctor, at least in my mind. I had taken a new syringe and stuck in the middle of
Read more