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Epiphany

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Author's note: I'm used to writing short stories on romance and heartbreak, and I never used to add cursing to...  Show full author's note »
Author's note: I'm used to writing short stories on romance and heartbreak, and I never used to add cursing to them. This time, I got my inspiration from my best friend. She asked me, "Why don't you write about something out of your element this time?" So, I decided to run with her idea. That is where I came up with the story's concept of love, drug abuse, and bounderies.  « Hide author's note
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Epiphany, pt.2

“El, wake up…wake up.” I felt two cold, soft lips brush across my cheek, tingling them. I slowly pried my eyes open and blinked a few times. I looked around the room trying to recall where I was. Soon enough, I realized, for my conscious slowly started to come back to me. I had recognized the dingy, old cupboard, the almost-empty closet, and the lifeless, stained window next to the bed. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty.” Charlie’s words echoed in my ears. I remained silent. I quietly turned my head to the window, directing my attention at the lonely sky. I wonder how it’s like to live there, I thought to myself. I could barely make any movement, for I felt strapped down to the bed; no where to go. Beside me, Charlie pulled out another swisher, lit it, and took a long drag. He exhaled and the smoke gracefully glided into the air, resembling what looked like a jellyfish. I continued to gaze out the window, completely lifeless and speechless, wondering what has become of my life that was once packed with morals. Charlie stared at the ceiling, the blunt perfectly balanced between his round lips. He turned to me, handing me the skinny brown stick filled with pungent weed. I stared at it in his hand for a second, and then reached for it. I returned my gaze to the window. The weed burned the back of my throat and fogged my nostrils as soon as I inhaled. A warm tear escaped the corner of my eye and slid down my cheek. “Here”, Charlie whispered against my ear. I looked over at him to see three tiny purple pills in his palm. I raised my eyebrow. “What are those?” I whispered back, my breath still smelling of the strong, lingering weed. “LSD.” He replied. I stared at the round shinny pills. A little white butterfly was engraved in the middle of each of them. I shook my head. “No Charles. I’m not taking any more drugs. This is as far as I’m gunna go.” Charlie cocked his head. “What? You haven’t tried LSD before! All you do is smoke weed and eat shrooms.” “…And that’s all I’m ever gunna take.” “C’mon El! Just try one. Please? Do it for me.” He pouted his face. “No! LSD burns holes through your brain! It’s too risky. I don’t want you to screw your life up with these drugs. LSD can kill you!” “You don’t have to worry bout that, baby. Just try it with me, just this once?” “I said NO Charles.” “You f*in’ suck. You’re good for nothing now.” Charlie’s words stung my heart. “I don’t know why I even bother with you anymore.” Charlie reached over the bed and grabbed an unopened bottle of tequila sitting on the cupboard. He unscrewed the cap with his teeth, and the cap flew off and landed across the room with a loud pop. Charlie stared at the three pills in his hand, took a deep breath, and threw them in his mouth. “What the hell are you doing Charles? Don’t take all three at once!” My eyes bulged out of my sockets. I could feel my blood pressure rising. “Shut up. If you don’t wanna do it, I WILL.” Charles gripped the bottle of tequila and chugged the whole thing down. I vigorously shook my head. “Why would you do that? If you have a bad trip, I won’t be able to save you.” He grumbled under his breath. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, I don’t wanna hear it. Your voice is irritating the s*** outta me right now.” He buried his head under his pillow. Like a dummy, I just sat right next to him, completely dumb founded. I was physically exhausted, and emotionally drained. I just sat there, gazing out that lonely, stained window, wondering how my life spindled out of control. “Mmmmmmmmmmm….” Charlie grumbled against his pillow. His hand rested against the soft flesh of my left thigh. A couple of minutes past, and I began to notice the warmth in his hand deteriorate. I reached over and caressed his palm. It was cold, rough, and frigid. I hope he doesn’t overdose… “No, that won’t happen.” I whispered to myself. I sighed. More minutes passed, and I numbly stayed glued to that spot next to Charlie, who was now passed out. What have I gotten myself into? Everything is spiraling outta control. My head was spinning like I was riding a Mary-go-around. “Something’s gotta’ give.” I reached over to the corner of the bed where Charlie’s green buttoned-flannel shirt was laying. Sliding my arms through the loose sleeves, I got up from the bed and tip-toed out the room. Turning the corner, I spotted the bathroom. I switched on the light, closed the door, and sat on the toilet seat. The bathroom was also cold and lifeless as every room in Charlie’s house; no sign of life or decoration; colorless. No wonder he always insisted that I came over after school, it was convenient and we could have our rendezvous without any interruptions. My emotions were all in a bunch; endless thoughts zoomed through my mind simultaneously giving me an instant headache. I curled up in a little huddle on top of the toilet, scrunching myself up and clutching on to my legs. I was no longer in control of my life. The moment I had met Charlie freshmen year, I knew what I was getting myself into. All the drugs, the partying, the spontaneous hook-ups were all so inviting to me in the beginning. To top it all off, I had fell in love with him the first time I met him at a party one weekend night…
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