I’ve always been able to get Felix to see my side of things and saw no reason for that to change. Sure, there was more to overcome now with the stupid housekeeper coming forward with her tale of woe, but with the drug coursing through my system, what had begun to seem like a hill too hard to climb, was no longer the ordeal I’d made it out to be in my mind.
The only downside I’ve seen in the last few days since I started my new favorite pastime is that when the high wears off, those old thoughts crop back up, and I’m back to square one, which is further acerbated by my new circumstances. If anyone should find fault with my willingness to lose myself, if only for a few hours, I’d like to invite them to live with what I have been in the last few days alone and see if they’d do any different.
So, what I’ve found a new way to escape? I dare anyone, facing the same, not to be tempted, and besides, I can stop whenever I want. It’s not like I plan on spending the rest of my life being strung out on drugs, living in this hellhole with the rest of these deadbeats. For one, I’m nothing like the others here who I found repulsive upon first meeting. That all changed immediately after my first hit. Then they seemed like kindred spirits.
But going back to the beginning, I’d been too out of it when I was picked up to say much of anything. Just the fact that I was leaving that place was enough. With my jaw wired shut, I couldn’t say much anyway, but I could still think, and what was going through my head only filled me with dread and fear. I seriously thought my life would end there in that dark, dreary place where every sound I heard was thought to be my last.
Hunger, cold, and pain had pretty much overtaken me, and the fact that when morning broke, I had no way of escaping and knowing I had more of the night before to look forward to had made for a miserable time. So, I was more than relieved when I was picked up relatively unscathed from my time in desolation.
Of course, I kicked up a fuss when instead of the motel I’d been taken from, I was brought here. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what kind of place it was, and I was almost certain at this point that the Russo kid had something to do with it. My grunts and groans, which was all I could muster, had fallen on deaf ears, though, and the big burly man who hadn’t said a word in the hour it took to bring me here had just tossed me out in an alley.
I’m not sure in my more lucid moments if I should be thankful that Frank, the first one to approach me once it looked like I really was meant to stay here, had befriended me. His assurance that the place wasn’t as bad as it seemed fell on deaf ears, and I just wanted to get my bearings and figure out the fastest way out of here.
I couldn’t talk, didn’t have my phone, and had no way of contacting anyone, which made the whole situation seem worst. I had some idea of where I was, but having never been here before, it was a bit of a shock. I’d only heard of this part of town in passing but never had any need to be anywhere near this place and never wanted to; why would I? But the stress of fighting back pain from my injuries and the horror of the past two nights kind of muddled my brain, and maybe that’s why it was so easy to accept his offer of help.
Upon noticing the pain, I was in; Frank had offered to share a hit of his joint with me. I saw nothing wrong with it if it was going to help ease my discomfort because weed never harmed anyone that I know of, and it’s not like it would be the first time I’d partaken of a joint or two.
It didn’t take me long, even though it had been some time since I’d smoked, to realize that there was something a little more added to the joint, and by the time we’d smoked the second one, I was up for anything. The fact that Frank was the only one with a tent out of this bunch didn’t hurt either, so when he offered me shelter from the cold, I saw no reason not to accept.
It did strike me as odd that Frank seemed a bit more sophisticated and well put together than the others who seemed to steer clear of us once we got to talking, and his explanation of having only recently fallen on hard times more than explained the disparity. Now usually, I would’ve been very distrusting of this whole setup, but after the first couple of joints, I was feeling no pain, and with my own situation being what it was, who am I to distrust his story?