story

I wake up at about three o’clock in the afternoon, head throbbing as always. My eyes can’t focus. I can see five feet in front of me. I remember that I probably left my contacts in again. This wouldn’t have been the first time I did this. I test my theory by poking my eyeball with my dry finger. Lo and behold there they were. I don’t know where I am. The bed that I am currently sitting on is unfamiliar. The bed is facing the window. It is raining, still. It’s always fucking raining. My mouth is extremely dry and I need water bad. The only liquid I can find is the Jack that was leftover from the other night. It will have to do I suppose. I walk over to the vanity table in the room and take a look at myself. It is a surprise to me that the mirror doesn’t crack instantly. As I peruse the cratered planet that is my face (mother always said don’t pick your acne scabs) I find dried blood on my nose. This is most likely due to the coke. I have grown to hate coke. It doesn’t do anything for me anymore. I look at the glass top bedside table. About three lines left, I don’t even hesitate as I grab the rolled up dollar bill and place it to my nostril. I wipe my nose after another few hits. As expected it does little to how I feel, which is great because my head is still in an invisible vise grip. I start to feel a little something as I go on. Each one makes the light from that lamp at the end of the room a little less bright. I look next to me. The girl, unfamiliar as well. She’s nothing special. Curly hair, flat as a board and she is snoring. Should I feel sick that the fact that I do not recognize this girl doesn’t surprise me? It would a rational human being I suppose. This does not apply to me.
I put on what I think are my clothes, though they could be anyone’s. My head hurts, a lot. I have come to notice that it’s only when I have a headache that I remember home. I started drinking at a very early age and hangovers were as part of my high school career as calices were to knitters. I had learned how to deal with the minor ones very early in my life but as I got older, they got worse and worse. This is when I discovered that drugs could fix this problem; nothing really was able to do the trick for me in terms of hangovers besides drugs.