Chapter Twenty: Wrong is Never Right, and Drugs are WrongLet us raise our glasses, and give a toast
too the lonely fool the crazed Grey Ghost
He rides alone but he rides free
But it's not worth the pain that he will see
So let us raise our glasses and give a toast
too the lonely fool, the crazed Grey Ghost
The next few days were hard, but they would be for anyone who loses a friend. I'll try not to pity myself as I have been known to do. For others have lost far more than I have. The pain of Jack's death hurt deep though, and not even music could pull me out. I holed myself up in my house and refused to speak with anyone. Joey and Robert all tried to get in to see me, and the rest of the guys all called. I wanted nothing to do with any of them. I honestly began to believe that if I cut myself off from everyone, it would be easier to live. After all, the less people you have deep connections too, the fewer people you can lose.
I want to make it very clear to everyone reading this, that under no circumstances should you allow yourself to go to the places I did. Even if you are alone in theory, you still have much to lose. Your sanity may be the first thing to go, as it was with me. On my fortieth birthday, I found myself alone in my room with a needle. I had not touched any sort of drugs for so many years that I couldn't really remember the number anymore. Yet there I was, holding it as if it was still 1987 and I was the king of the world. Forty years old, and still as stupid as ever I guess. I pressed it into my arm and felt the metal pierce through skin that was clean. I felt the filth of it surge into my veins and I knew then that what I was doing was wrong. But I wanted to be wrong...I had been doing right so long and trying to please everyone for so long...and failing at it...that perhaps being wrong could be right for me...
I stumbled off of my bed and went into the kitchen. In my haze of broken thoughts I seemed to have found the notion to make myself supper. I opened my cabinet and found a pot to cook a stew in, and as I pulled it from it's shelf I ignored the sound of the entire cabinets worth of pans and dishes falling to the floor. Some shattered. I merrily placed the pot on the stove and turned on the burner. I then walked to the fridge and grabbed the milk and the jelly, both of which I poured into the pot. The milk flew from its jug and the pot found itself overfilled. Milk poured onto the floor and I found myself slipping. I fell to the floor and hit my head on the stone tile that I had installed with Stephanie. Only then did the real visions begin.
I saw Stephanie, as she loomed over me like a giant goddess. Helle and me were pressing ourselves against a corner of wall as Stephanie grabbed her from my arms. I cried, and screamed...but I watched as Stephanie and Helle walked away from me smiling. Leaving me to die. The vision went black and then lit up again in a fiery haze. My home was burning. Somehow, I had managed to catch the place on fire in my fumbling idiocy. I stood and grabbed for the phone as the flames roared around me. I called Joey and yelled at him to come and help me and that the house was on fire. Then the smoke choked my breathing away from me and I fell down into blackness again.
I awoke several hours later on my couch. I sat up in a hurry and jerked my eyes towards the kitchen to find it perfectly intact and no signs of a fire having happened. I then became aware that Joey was on the chair sitting across from me. I threw my hands to my head and lowered myself back down to the cushion.
"What the hell are you doing John?" he asked in a low voice.
"Grieving..." I tried to act innocent as if I had simply fell asleep on the couch. "What are you doing here?"
"Well...I received a call from you informing me that the house was on fire and that you were dying and I thought that maybe I should come and see the spectacle." He was angry, I could hear it.
"Oh..."
"Why the fuck would you tell me such a thing as that on the phone John? Quite loudly I might add. It sounded as if you may have been dying indeed...any explanation?" I had no choice but to confess.
"I may have...done some stuff..."
"Really? Because when I busted through the window I found you laying on the kitchen floor mumbling about Stephanie and Helle...I didn't find any fire or a dying version of you...and you say you may have "done some stuff?""
"The rest of it's on my bed...could you just get rid of it please?" I asked as I sat up. My head hurt...severely, and so did my chest.
"You're damn lucky I don't kill you myself." Said Joey as he came back into the room. "You've been off this shit for years Johnny! Why I ask you...after all you've been through in those years, did this one event turn you back on it?"
"It wasn't just this one event Joey! You know how it is..."
"No, I'm not drinking again. But you are doing this again."
"No I'm not...it was one time and I won't be doing it again...I promise you it..." He cut me off.
"Don't you dare make promises to me you ass hole... I don't need to have weak promises be broken. Make them to yourself and see if you can't make them hold for your own sake."
With that he left me. He only paused once as he walked towards the door to look back at me. He shook his head and continued. I on the other hand went back to sleep. The worst sleep anyone could have, for I was anything but "at rest."
Edited by user 21 November 2011 06:20:53(UTC)
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