Page 100 of Inevitable Destruction

“I get it. You don’t know a lot about me, but I grew up with addicts in a shitty trailer park. I never knew what each day would bring, and I lived in a constant state of anxiety.

“I may be here now, but part of me is still back there—which is why I do what I have to. But that doesn’t mean I want to see the effects of the drugs I sell.” He brushes his finger back and forth over my clammy skin, and I force myself not to pull away, to just listen to his words before I let it all fade away.

“I care about you, Dom. Probably more than I should, but caring for you has got me in a lot of shit. Shit I can’t fucking be in. But it’s not only that. I can’t see you like this. I can’t watch as you kill yourself, as selfish as that is.

“So I have to go. I don’t know why I thought I could save you when it’s so fucking clear you don’t want to be saved.” He leans forward, and my eyes close on instinct. His lips brush against my forehead, over my curls, inhaling deeply.

I let him have this moment he needs before it’s all over.

For the both of us.

Without looking me in the eyes, he steps away and to the door. It’s not until he’s clutching the handle in a death grip that his eyes finally meet mine. Tears trickle down his face with more following quickly behind.

I wish I could say I felt a twinge of, well, anything at the sight of my best friend breaking down in front of me, but there’s nothing.

Just the dead, hollow beats of my heart thumping against my breastbone with a painful reminder of how much life feels like death. Though I’m almost positive death feels better than this.

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a baggie filled with white powder, sending it sailing through the air where it lands a few feet to my right.

“I’m going to regret this, but you need to know.” He swallows and takes a deep breath. “Everett threatened to ruin my life if I gave you any more drugs. Instead, I’ve been selling your usual shit to him. I didn’t have a choice, Dom. There are people I have to protect.

“I just… Get some help, man. Please.” His voice cracks with a sob, and then he’s gone, only a rattling doorframe left in his wake.

Feeling relief at the disappearance of his suffocating presence, I crawl to the baggie he left as a parting gift and pop the seal. My hands shake as I dump a lump of powder onto the flesh between my thumb and forefinger before bringing it to my nose and inhaling it.

A bout of euphoric dizziness hits me, and my head rolls back as tears of solace sting my eyes.

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