A Stellar Flare of Young Adult Writing and Visual Art

Druggie Love

woman-1006102_1920BY KIMBERLY FLORES

Dear Lord, I’m on my knees, can you hear my prayers? Don’t leave me this time…

I lost who I was and became a part of him. I was lost then. I am so lost.

I’ve been thinking about how much you’ve hurt me in the past three and a half years and how I never want to be with you again, I never want to see you again but I can’t help but feel like nothing when you’re not here. I trusted him with everything I had. My body, mind and soul. It was the biggest mistake of my life, I broke myself like never before. I’m still broken, it still hurts.

The worst years of my life started young and I was tricked to believe I was tough enough to get past it by myself. I knew it was okay not to be okay, the bad thing was that I wasn’t okay most of the time. I was told tricks to live from one thing to another, from being a heartless bitch, love yourself so no one else has to love you, to loving life and accepting yourself and everyone and everything around you. I didn’t know which path to take, and even as I switched my mindset every couple of months, whenever something bad happened, I still happened to fall down the wrong path.

I’m in such a dark place, help me.

“You’re missing a perfectly good time to be happy!” my mom would tell me. How can I be happy, show me!

If this boy can’t can’t love me, how do I learn to love myself? When you went out with that other girl on my birthday and when you told me she was better than I was, I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. Maybe I was supposed to be sad, probably mad for the most part. But I couldn’t feel anything, and that was okay. When we lay in bed together I wouldn’t trade it for the world, I was so in love, but I was the only one. What is the point of pretending to love? Why hurt someone so bad they think the only way to get rid of the pain was to take their own life? It’s unexplainable pain, my heart hurts so bad, I’m in so much pain.

The night I kicked you out of my house because you were kissing me as if you wanted to be kissing someone else, I sat up and cried, I was so heartbroken. Being with you, heartbreaks were a normal vicious circle in our relationship. Well I was the only one being hurt. My eyes were constantly swollen from crying so bad, or was it because of when you threw me on the floor and I hit my head? I can’t even remember anymore, my pills are a hell of a drug. Maybe it was my fault, maybe I deserved it, after nights of laughing with the devil, I kept asking why I got what I deserved. I don’t know, at this point of my life I don’t know anything, I’m not strong enough to make my own decisions. Is this what I’ve come to?

This is not how I was raised, stop.

Deep breath, then everything is gone again.

“Stop! Don’t ever touch me again!”

“Shut the fuck up! You’re in my house and I’ll do whatever I want!”

Why are we arguing again? Over something so petty, it started from something so irrelevant, and now I’m risking my life being thrown around by a guy who is so much stronger than me. I have no way to defend myself. There is so much anger in his eyes, and the way I’m hiding in the corner I can tell I look like a little puppy with big sad eyes and low ears. He’s watching me trying to hide the tears on my face and I can see a wave of deeper anger pass through his face. Hurting me pleases him but seeing my pain makes him mad. He’s evil, he is the devil.

“Get up! Hurry up, I’m not waiting all day for you.”

How did I get this low, why am I still here? He has never been the best to me, but he’s something. Some days he is the perfect guy and the same nights he’ll find a way to hurt me something good. He brought me happiness but so much pain, I feel so stupid. Why tolerate being treated like nothing?

I get up to run out the door and I feel his hand on me and it’s like all my bones are being crushed.

“Where the fuck are you going? You’re not leaving me.”

“Get away from me, look at how you have me! What’re you doing to me? One day you’ll kill me.” He’s crying now.

“Shit, baby I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I promise I’ll never hurt you again.” I’m shaking so bad. “Baby I swear I’ll make it up to you one day, don’t leave me, I love you so much.”

I ignore him and walk out the room. He stays on the floor next to my warm spot in the corner, you can see where my tears landed. Haha, good thing it’s over now. I’m so used to it that it’s almost like it didn’t just happen. I would probably force myself to believe that if my throat wasn’t burning so bad from holding back my cries.

I come back into the room with a little baggie that has forty eight pills in it, count twenty-four, and pop eight at a time. I leave the bag on the ground because it’s his half, and he watches them as if he is trying to figure out where they came from, but he pops them anyways with no questions asked.

I sit on the other wall across from him- just wait about thirty minutes and I’ll be numb again. That’s what I live for now.

“Come back over here.” he sort of whispers. I pretend like I don’t hear him hoping he will just stay quiet.

“Did I stutter? I said come sit by me.” Before anything bad happens again I go to sit next to him. “That’s what I thought.” He puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. It is completely silent for a while and he asks, “What do you live for baby?”

I stay quiet a minute, pondering the question.

“I live for love.” I stare at the empty bag on the ground that had the pills. “I love my drugs.”

A couple of minutes pass by and I need to throw up. I run to the bathroom and let go of the breakfast I had hours before, why do I keep doing this to myself? I feel the pills start kicking in. I’m sitting with my face on the toilet seat, some drool swinging below, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. Tears down my face and I’m smiling. My soul is so sad, my mind is slowly dying and killing me with it, I can’t feel my body. My mind is running loose, I’m losing my vision.

“Babe, what’re you doing?”

“Nothing, I need help getting up!”

To be continued…

About the Author

Kimberly Flores is fifteen years and attends Springdale High School in Springdale, AR. She is writing her story for her son.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: