head up, and open my eyes. My stomach is more painful than ever though. My skin is burning, like a million needles are being pushed into me at once. Black and white static. Jesus even my insides are burning. Oh fuck this isn’t good. I’m dying. I wish I was dying. “Where the fuck am I?” My eyes. They burn. My mouth tastes like decaying meat. This looks like…a basement? It seems familiar. I’ve been here before. Yeah I have, this is the house on 16th street.Oh fuck, I’m sick. Syringe. Beethoven. Puppy. Football. I need a hit. I need a hit bad. Oh shit, there’s still a needle in her arm with some dope in it. Fuck, I can’t reach. My arm is wedged in something.Shit it’s frozen to the floor. I need that hit. Pull. Pull harder. Oh God, the sound of my skin peeling off the pavement was as bad as the fucking pain. Not much bleeding though. How long have I been out? Gotta get the “H”. Just one more time. I swear to God, just one more time. Roll over and yank it out. Gotta get my shoe off. Come on, come on, come on, fuck, my fingers won’t work. I can’t untie my fucking shoes. There’s no sole left on this one. Socks already have holes. Oh shit, three of them are fucking black. That won’t work. Big toe still has color, must have some blood in it still. Rip the sock. It’s in. Push. “Oh…my…God…” The hurting stops instantly. Head stops pounding. Stomach soothed. Thank you Lord Shiva. Now I just need to lay back down and…Who is that anyways? Samantha? “Hey baby wake up. Sammy?” God, her face looks blue. It’s hard to see down here, but I swear I can see every vein in her face, neck, and arms. Kind of looks like blue and purple spider webs. “Sammy”? Jesus Christ, my heart. It’s really starting to… Samantha. Beach. Light. Mom. “What happened? What took so long?” “Sorry, damn meeting went on forever. God, it’s cold out there tonight.I’m going to hop in the shower and head to bed.” “Did you eat dinner? I can make you something quick if you’re hungry.” “Dan and I stopped at Moe’s and got something to
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eat. Thanks anyways.” “Hey Honey, you’re phone’s ringing.” “Can you answer it? I’m already in the shower. If its work, tell them I’ll call them back in 20 minutes.” “Hello?” “Hello, I’m looking for Mr. Donahue?” “This is Mrs. Donahue, can I help you?” “This is Officer Peter Benson, with the Chicago Police Department. I’m calling in regards to your son, Jacob Donahue.” “This is about Jake? Oh God! What happened? I haven’t heard from him in over ten years.” “Do you have a moment to talk?”