She lit the cigarette and pulled a long waft. She laughed; everything was perfect. When she was in her own space, nothing seemed frightening. She loved being here. Nothing meant nothing. She could be anything she wanted: a superstar, an astronaut, a nurse, a teacher, a biologist, an interpret, a diplomat. And she’d been every single one of them in her mind. Even President.
But it was only a moment in time, a few minutes. And then reality stepped back in. She was nothing. And she would never be anything. She had no idea… And it was too late. Even she knew it was too late. So she pulled another long waft and returned to her drug induced perfect place. It was the only place where she didn’t hurt, where she couldn’t make the wrong decision. It wasn’t her fault. And yet it was.
She hadn’t found an aim in her life. She couldn’t figure it out. Her teachers said she wasn’t clever enough to be an astronaut or a biologist. Her classmates said she wasn’t pretty enough to be a superstar. Her parents said she wasn’t confident enough to be a diplomat. And President, what a joke! Nobody in their right mind would vote for her.
Still she’d tried. She went to college to study languages, but she made the wrong choice. A party, a drink and a reputation. She’d tried to ignore it. She couldn’t. They didn’t let her. She could have pressed charges. But who would have stood by her? Nobody. Her parents would have despised her for sleeping before marriage. Her college peers would have looked down upon her as a snitch. And after watching the videos, the police would have believed she was a willing participant.
So she smoked crack. There was no choice to make here. No aim, no direction. Just a perfect moment of euphoria. It was gone too fast. And it was expansive. But she needed it. So she’d made other wrong choices. To finance her habits. Her savings were safe because she couldn’t touch them before her 21st birthday. But nothing else was. She stole from her parents, her roommates, strangers. After being picked up by the police once, she went down in the street. She had skills. She was good with her mouth.
Aimless life. But for the few moments of joy the crack offered. Like right now; she didn’t need to think. She didn’t need to make any choice. Not about the guy who was pumping into her. Not about the dirty squalid place she was in. The man above her might be ugly as Hephaestus but he looked like Apollo in the drug induced euphoria. She was going to…
The door smashed open… The guy was pulled off of her. Cops? Maybe. She didn’t care. One stood over her.
“Fuck, are the medics here?”
“Too late mate. She’s a goner.”
“Over my dead body she is. Hey what’s your name?”
“Whatever you want babe.”
She laughed. Who cared about the great Reaper? Her choices had brought her here. No aim, no goal. She might as well embrace him. No purpose. The only fulfilment in a few minute of fake joy. Not a life worth living. She was slipping away between the man’s fingers, just like water.
A jab in the arm. More drugs. Perfect. Perfect… She could fall asleep forever.
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