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#drugs and alcohol
myimaginaryradio · 2 months
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White Rabbit The Jefferson Airplane - 1967
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spoofamoofa · 6 months
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Snippet of Labyrinth
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Daisy: My sister was born to write music and perform it too, the solo album she put out did 10x better then ours did, in my opinion,[Laughs], Don't tell you're Dad I said that.
Graham: Rory was the only person who could stop both Daisy and Billy from ripping each other's heads off.[Laugh],  she also wouldn't shut up about her cats .
Karens: She was like a ball of energy, always running into the studio with new song ideas, probably because she quite literally had caffeine running through her veins all the time [Laugh].
Warren: That women was was always down for a smoke, I always went to her when I wanted to smoke anything, she's was an easy person to talk to whether high or not, I remember all these serious conversations we would have high and some where we just talk about dumb shit.
Camila: Lorelei was good person, she didn't deserve what happened to her, [Sigh], I still think about what would of happened if it never took place.
Billy: Now her and Daisy were similar but at least she was responsible and showed up on time to recording sessions. God both those women got on my nerve constantly.
Eddie: Lorelei was something-she was something else, [Sigh], she's the type of girl that get's songs written about her and she did but not by me,[Chuckles], I wish I did though.
Lorelei: what can I say? I really had a marvelous time ruining everything[Laughs]
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ghostradiodylan · 5 months
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Thirst Games
Kaitlyn threw up a three-finger Mockingjay salute. “May the odds be ever in our favor, you’re the gay Peeta Mellark to my Katniss Everdeen and these are The 74th Annual Thirst Games.”
“Me as Peeta kind of ruins the whole love triangle thing though, no?”
Kaitlyn shrugged. “Love triangles are tired.”
“Yeah, agreed.” Dylan nodded. They both recognized the irony here but refused to acknowledge it. 
———————————————
Ryan was dutifully rinsing down the canoes outside the boathouse when he noticed a tall figure approaching out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Dylan loping toward him from the direction of the lodge.
“Ryan, hey! I brought you something for your next campfire!” Dylan reached into his pocket and produced a small zip-top bag full of white powder. He handed it over to Ryan, who eyed it suspiciously.
“Dylan… is this cocaine?”
“Yes. Definitely. I’m giving you cocaine for the campfire with your 10 year old campers. First one’s free. That’s how I get you.”
Ryan looked at him blankly. Dylan sighed.
“It’s coffee creamer, you absolute narc. If you toss just a little in the fire, it flames up and you should get some cool sparks. It’s the magic of chemistry. The kids’ll think you’re a wizard. I thought it’d enhance the vibes for your ghost stories!”
“Oh, wow, that’s… actually really cool.” Ryan’s face broke into a grin. “Thanks Dylan!”
“Don’t mention it,” he winked roguishly, “I like you Ryan, but not enough to share my cocaine with you.” 
Ryan chuckled at this but as he watched Dylan saunter away toward the radio hut, he had to admit that he really didn’t know if he was joking or not. Ryan was often sarcastic himself, but he also had a habit of taking things others said a bit too literally. He figured Dylan probably was not doing lines in the little shack where he worked over the schedules with Kaitlyn and made his announcements, although if he had been that would explain some of his more colorful broadcasting choices.
———————————————
Dylan was alone in the radio hut waiting for Kaitlyn. He had his back to the door, fully absorbed in trying, unsuccessfully, to unstick a stuck button on the ancient PA system, when he heard the door open.
“Sup Kaitlyn?” He called without looking, “you won’t believe what Ryan said today!” An unexpected warm bass voice came in response.
“What did I say?”
Dylan’s head whipped toward the source of the sound so violently that he nearly toppled out of his chair.
“Uhhh something very wise and cool, obviously,” Dylan fumbled, his hand flying to the back of his head disarmingly as he took in the handsome sailing instructor he’d just been all too ready to gossip about.
“Smooth,” was Ryan’s only reply. He was wearing one of those inscrutable smiles he seemed to favor, the ones that drove Dylan crazy, for better and for worse.
“Sorry, I was expecting Kaitlyn.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. So, what were you saying about me?” Dylan could feel heat rising in his cheeks. He felt like he’d been caught in a transgression, but Ryan didn’t sound angry or even suspicious, he merely seemed interested.
“Oh, just about you mistaking the coffee creamer for cocaine. I thought that was pretty cute.”
Why the hell had he said that last part out loud? Did he forget his Adderall again today? “I mean,” he quickly continued, “I just hope you didn’t try to snort a line or whatever. Woulda' been disappointing to get a nose full of French vanilla and no head rush.”
This seemed to put Ryan at ease. He laughed softly.
“Anyway, what brings you to my humble radio station today, sailor?” Dylan put on what he hoped was a winning smile, “what can I do you for—um—do for you?”
“I was actually thinking more about what I could do for you.”
Mysterious. Cryptic. Intriguing. Why was Ryan like this? And why did Dylan like it so much?
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“Birthday present for you,” said Ryan, “I talked to Mr. H and he finally agreed to let you guys take the van tonight since I’m going too.” Ryan pulled a set of keys from his pocket and twirled it on his index finger before tossing it to Dylan.
Dylan had to concentrate very hard to actually catch the keys hurtling toward his face, but he managed to do so and was incredibly thankful he hadn’t beefed it in front of Ryan.
“Hey, sweet, thanks dude!” Dylan was actually touched. Ryan hadn’t had to do that, but he was glad he did. Ryan thought the van was the present but Dylan wanted to tell him his presence was the only present he needed. Fuck, that was corny. Being in love made him so corny. He refrained. “I’m really glad you decided to go.”
“Sure thing. I could use a night away from the kids, honestly.”
Dylan and Ryan were grinning at each other when the door burst open again.
“Honey, I’m home!” Kaitlyn called to Dylan before noticing that Ryan was there. “Oh,” she raised an eyebrow at Dylan, “am I interrupting something?” Ryan answered her.
“I was just letting the birthday boy know I secured the wheels for this evening.”
“Oh, cool beans! Can’t wait for our wild night out clubbing in North Kill, the the city that never wakes, with three entire businesses that are open past 7 pm!”
“Hey, we’ll make our own fun,” Dylan promised her, “we always do.”
“Well, it’s almost time for rowing lessons,” said Ryan, by way of excusing himself, “see you guys when you get off tonight.” 
Yeah, definitely gonna see you when I get off tonight, Dylan thought lewdly, I usually do.
“Later Ry-guy,” said Kaitlyn.
Once she was sure Ryan was out of earshot she wheeled around on Dylan.
“Oh my god, your face when I came in just now,” Kaitlyn tittered as Dylan’s cheeks went slightly pink, “Dude. You’re so whipped. You look at that boy like he’s the moon. Like you’re stoned out of your mind and he’s last bag of Cheetos on earth.”
“I knowwww,” Dylan groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto the desk, “I’m so obvious, it’s painful.”
“Well, you’re obvious and he’s oblivious so that’s an interesting combination.”
“I keep flirting with him thinking he might be flirting with me too, but it’s so hard to tell.”
“I can’t get a read on him either. Of course, I haven’t tried to flirt with him. I let men come to me. Or not. It’s whatever.”
Dylan snickered lightly at this, “I don’t think either method is getting us anywhere but, hey, may the odds be ever in our favor.”
Kaitlyn threw up a three-finger Mockingjay salute. “May the odds be ever in our favor, you’re the gay Peeta Mellark to my Katniss Everdeen and these are The 74th Annual Thirst Games.”
“Me as Peeta kind of ruins the whole love triangle thing though, no?”
Kaitlyn shrugged. “Love triangles are tired.”
“Yeah, agreed.” Dylan nodded. They both recognized the irony here but refused to acknowledge it. 
“Aw, shit,” Dylan continued, “you would look hot as fuck with a bow and arrow.”
Kaitlyn gave a small bow of acknowledgement indicating that she did not disagree. “Well, if things go sideways, I’m not frosting myself like a cake,” he shot her a wicked grin, “might let Ryan do it though.”
“Oh my god!” She laughed in disbelief. “That is so wrong.”
“You’re right, if we’re sticking to the bakery metaphor, it’s really more of a glaze.” 
“EW! You repulse me, Lenivy. I’m out.” Kaitlyn waved a hand dismissively and turned to leave the radio hut.
“Shut up, you love me. Hey, wait up Short Stack!”
"Catch up, Stretch," she shouted back.
Dylan scrambled after her. He did catch up pretty easily since her little legs were like half as long as his. They were heading to the boathouse for their Monday ritual of watching Ryan row across the lake in a tank top. Their ostensible purpose was to act as lifeguards in case any of the kids fell out of the rowboats, but Ryan hadn’t lost one yet so they mostly just chatted together and ogled him shamelessly in the highly flattering golden hour light.
Dylan was gazing at Ryan through a pair of binoculars, watching Ryan’s toned arms and shoulders flexing and releasing as the propelled his boat across the lake. Happy Birthday to me, he thought smugly. Of course, it would have been sexier if Ryan hadn’t had to wear that bright yellow life jacket that obscured the rest of him, or stop to shout instructions at a bunch of middle school kids through a megaphone every few strokes as they screamed and flailed and invariably dropped their paddles into the lake, but Dylan would take what he could get. 
He heard someone approaching him from behind but couldn’t imagine that whoever it was could possibly be more interesting than Ryan’s biceps, so Dylan kept his eyes right where they were until he felt a hand firmly grasp his ass. 
“The fuck—?“ he yelped, jumping and nearly dropping his binoculars.
“Happy Birthday, babe,” said a smooth voice in his ear. It was Nick. Dylan swatted Nick’s hand away, tsking in disapproval and kicking backward, halfheartedly, at the other boy’s shin.
“I swear, Nicholas, if you don’t stop sexually harassing me you’re gonna end up sucking my dick. And that’ll be so embarrassing for you when I get drunk off my ass and tell everyone about it at your and Abi’s wedding. Which I’ll be DJing, obviously.”
“I see no reason that I should be embarrassed by any such boyish transgressions of my bachelor days.” Nick shrugged affably, taking a long drag on the joint he’d brought to the boathouse with him and slowly releasing the smoke through his nose.
“Oh my god, get a room you two.” Kaitlyn held out her hand expectantly, her binoculars still pressed to her face and trained on Ryan. She’d smelled the weed without needing to see it. Nick passed her the spliff and she took a hit.
Dylan had no interest in getting a room with Nick. The tall, wavy-haired guy was certainly attractive enough (plus, who wouldn’t go a little weak in the knees the first time they heard that accent?) and Dylan had made a few earnest passes at him before settling on Ryan as his summer crush, but he was pretty sure Nick was straight, or at least mostly straight. He flirted with Dylan in a joking way, sometimes he even crossed the line a bit, like he had just now, but the way he looked at Abi, the deference with which he treated her, the way he got all cute and fidgety when she spoke to him, that felt more like the real deal and Dylan shipped it. He was trying his best to get Nick to make a move, but thought he was pretty hopeless. Which was maybe a little hypocritical of Dylan since he couldn’t seem to make a move on his crush either. But tonight, he thought, that could very well change.
Anyway, it hadn’t taken long for Dylan to realize he only had eyes for Ryan. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. His heart and other prime real estate was reserved for Ryan alone. His eyes however were free to wander over Nick’s bare chest and abs at the pool if they so desired, and it often turned out that they did. But Nick was a follower and no amount of abdominal definition could make up for that in Dylan’s opinion. He was pretty sure the only reason Nick kept flirting with him was that he was mirroring Dylan’s playfully flirtatious energy back at him. He did the same with Jacob, becoming a meathead obsessed with ‘getting chicks’ if they hung out one-on-one for too long.
Ryan, on the other hand, was his own person through and through. He was into the niche little things he liked, black metal, ghost stories, cryptozoology; he didn’t care who knew it or what they thought. And while they generally had a friendly repartee, Ryan challenged Dylan if he thought he was wrong and, as much as Dylan hated for anyone to think he was wrong, he admired the backbone it took for Ryan to point it out, even when he disagreed.
Nick offered the joint to Dylan, who considered it for a moment and declined. “Nah man, Ryan’s coming tonight. I gotta be straight.”
“I feel like you’d want to be anything but straight in every possible way if Ryan’s coming,” Nick chuckled.
“You know what I mean,” he brought the binoculars back up to his eyes in time to see Ryan frantically fishing yet another lost oar out of the lake, “I have to focus.”
“Are you really gonna be straight edge on your own birthday?” asked Kaitlyn, still not taking her eyes off of Ryan. “BOR-ING!”
“No way, I’ll definitely be drunk later,” Dylan assured her, smiling.
“Good,” said Nick, “because I have a handle of vodka in the walk-in with our names on it.”
“Perfection. I’ll stick with that. I just don’t wanna get paranoid around Ryan. He already puts me on edge. Plus, your stash is of a questionable strain if you ask me.”
“Hey!” Nick protested, “It is not! This is perfectly good bud, just because you were convinced that your head was physically fused to the futon last time we smoked, doesn’t mean it’s a quality issue. Didn’t happen to anyone else, did it? That’s the fault of the partaker, not the product.” Kaitlyn was giggling.
“Either way, you guys better get rid of that before Ryan gets finished with the lesson because he will FUH-REAK if he catches you smoking on the property.”
“Ugh, he’s such narc,” Kaitlyn’s eyes were obscured by the binoculars, but Dylan was pretty sure she was rolling them.
“I told him the same thing earlier. I guess we are technically supposed to be ready to jump in the lake to save someone at a moment’s notice, so, maybe he’d be justified in wanting us to not be compromised. For once,” Dylan granted. 
“Yeah, well, good thing you aren’t partaking so you don’t become one with deck while one of the campers drowns.” Nick smirked. Dylan kicked him in the shin for real this time.
———————————————
Happy Thirst Games Thursday, have some pre-canon Hacketteer camaraderie.
This is a WIP inspired by Dylan's birthday being right in the middle of camp and Ryan's line about vodka bringing people together. It's either going to be a one shot posted on my AO3 or it'll get folded into Particles & Waves as a flashback, I haven't yet decided which.
I love these jerks. 💕
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jokeson-u · 9 months
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the resemblance between the 1996 and 2021 cast is insane but i just. do not see it for juliette lewis as adult natalie. everyone else is like identical, i feel like they missed the mark on her tbh
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piplupod · 3 months
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mum's so fucking messed up from her current medication cocktail, like she's genuinely high or something. she's always talked over me and interrupted me (my entire family does it and never seems to even notice they do it half the time) but yesterday it was like that was cranked up to maximum. i just gave up talking at some point in the early afternoon after she'd talked over me as if i hadnt even been speaking when we were the only two in the room together, like ten times in less than fifteen mins. it was fucking brutal.
anyways she's apparently going to be drinking during our early new years party, and that makes things so much worse in general when she's had any alcohol so I'm uhhhh terrified to see what the mix of meds and alcohol is going to do to her !!!! this is going to be Unbearable yayyyy
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shaiancira · 1 year
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-Ancira
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Impulsive defense
This is a short-ish story of Blair, a young child who David took in as his own. After receiving a note from Micheal, David made his way to the city.
Warning: mentions of abuse, drugs, alcohol, blood, death, and fights.
The city was loud, cars rumbling around and people always having someplace to be. David had a love hate relationship with cities. On one hand it was where he was raised and provided so many resources to borrowers that no one would miss. Not to mention people who see borrowers in the city think they’re just large rats. On the other hand though, the city was dangerous. Too many people not watching where the go or what they do, all the cars and vehicles, not to mention the rats…both human and animal.
David eyed the alleyway waiting for the group of drunk men to leave. He was planning on visiting his friend, Micheal. Micheal was a borrower David had met while traveling around the city looking for anything useful and to spot any safe places for other borrowers. They met after David entered the human’s home and noticed the walls weren’t just filled with the usually dust and scraps, but rather were clean, had tools, places to rest, and many other signs that there was a borrower living here. David was invited to stay with Micheal and his wife Yael. They all bonded quickly, David was even invited to meet the birth of their child, Blair.
Once the drunk men had left, David quickly made his way across the alley and behind the large dumpster. Scanning the wall he found the small broken brick. He moved the small piece, exposing the inside of the walls. Quickly he ducked in and moved the piece back in place.
As David walked along he thought about why he was invited. Micheal said his wife had passed away, and that he just needed a friend for comfort. David understood all to well the feeling of losing a loved one, so when he received the message, he quickly made his way to the city off in the distance with the help of Laura who offered to take him after he told everyone about the note. A storm was going to pass by and she was willing to get a hotel for the night.
Eventually he found the small wooden door and knocked. Rustling could be heard from the other side until the door swung open revealing Micheal. He looked terrible, sickly even. His usual bright brown eyes were darkened and his dirty blond hair was a mess, with parts sticking up at odd angles from unknown substances. David didn’t want to know or even ask.
“Oooohhhh David! What are you doing her bro??” Micheal said leaning against the doorframe and slurring his words.
“Uhh ya sent me a letter talking about Yael, I thought I’d come by and ya know support ya.”
Micheal paused and stared off for a few seconds, “oooooohhhhh Right.” His voice sounded harsh before quickly changing back, “well come innnn….”
David, a bit confused, walked in while watching as Micheal flopped back onto the puff balls of a couch. Looking around he noticed that the house was a mess, tools and items scattered across the floor. A few pieces of furniture were flipped over and broken. The place didn’t used to look like this, it was a nice house and now everything was destroyed and gross. David noticed a dresser made of a matchbox and other materials was pushed in front of one of the doors that lined the wall.
“Uhhhh kinda let ya-self go huh?” David said glancing around trying not to stare at the globs of mold and food in the corner of the room and the ceiling.
“Brooooooo….yea maybe. Yael has been gone for awhile.”
“Yeah…when did she die?”
“Like a few months ago”
“Ohhh, and ya only told me now? I mean that’s fine and I’ll be here for ya but I would’ve been here earlier to help ya out and stuff”
“Nah nah it’s fine, soooo fine….”
“Okay…so you okay?”
“yeeeeee dude I’m TotAlly fIiinnnee. Happier toooooo wooooooo”
David paused a bit confused, perhaps he’s just drunk right now, his mind is lost a bit, “Mmh…where’s Blair by the way? How did they take it?”
“Who? Oh!!! Yeah he’s fine…but he uh is grounded right now”
“Oh…why?”
“Mmmmh lil dude almost got us caught the other night, so he has to be grounded…dude you want something to drink?”
“Uh no thanks…”
“Nahhhhhh bro lemme get ya something”
“Micheal” David said in a stern voice, “are ya okay? Ya seem out of it”
Micheal froze and stared at David, his eyes seemed to never focus fully on David.
“Yea..yea…I’m fine just…need a pep up or something…” Micheal got up and walked over, “stay here, make yourself comfy I’m gonna grab some stuff…it’ll be a sec…good stuffs in the storage heh” as Micheal clumsily walked away David looked around the torn up house. What happened here…it’s a mess. He seems way out of it…like he’s been drinking but where’d he get the alcohol? Jeez I didn’t think he’d let himself go so fast. Only a month and it looks like he’s been out of it for months. His muscles and body are thinner too…man what did you do.
David sat and thought as Micheal walked away, the second the door clicked behind Micheal a small knock was heard. David whipped his head towards the knock, which seemed to come from the blocked door. Another knock was heard and a soft muffled cry came from the other side.
David quickly walked over and shoved the dresser out of the way, unblocking the door. He pulled the door open and in front of him was Blair but the poor kid looked terrible. Blair had brown eyes and dark brown hair but usually the kid seemed so bright. On David’s other visits the kid would happily bounce around and looked full of life. Happily talking about adventures and asking David about any cool new stories. The Blair in front of him looked drained. Their hair was matted, they look like they haven’t had sleep in days. Their skin looked sickly and they were covered in bruises.
“Blair? What happened to ya kid?”
Blair stood and glance at the door Micheal had left through before looking back at David, who had crouched down to be even with the kid.
“Da-d…”
David froze in shock, “what do ya mean?” Blair froze as if terrified to say anything, “it’s alright, ya can tell me. Ya can tell me anything okay?”
Blair took a shaky breath and looked at David, tears threatening to fall out of their little sad eyes.
“He..for a-awhile he’s be-been finding stuff…st-stuff that ma-m-makes hi-m act weird… he start hitting m-me…and m-mommy… mommy tried to d-defend me whe-when he got tha-that way…he said if we let you kn-know that he’d h-hurt us…hu-hurt us worse…dad…he…he hurt mommy too much…sh-she stopped moving…I…I” tear spilled out of the kids eyes as he cried out, “I WANT MY MOMMY!!!”
David was shocked when the kid ran and wrapped their arms around him. He gently wrapped his arms around the kid. “Hey it’s okay…I’m here. I’ll protect ya…I have so many questions but I’ll ask ya later..” He held onto the sobbing child, how long has this been happening? Years??? Why did Blair tell him now? Were they desperate? What made them break out of their father’s forceful grasp?
“Let’s get ya ou-“ David paused as he felt the child grip onto him tighter as the door clicked, revealing Micheal
“What did you say” Micheal’s voice was stern, serious. In his hand was a homemade glass bottle…it was filled with a clear liquid that had a thin layer of powder on the top. David didn’t know everything about alcohol or drugs, but he knew enough that mixing them was not good.
“WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?!?!” Micheal shouted at Blair, stepping forward. David quickly moved the kid behind him.
“Enough! Back off Micheal! You’re not okay, whatever you’re doing is not okay. You need help. I’ll help you but I can’t let you near them.” David stood firm as Micheal glared at him.
“YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT! IM THAT BASTARDS DAD! I DECIDE WHEN TO PUNISH THEM! And it needs punished.” Micheal started to step forward and David slowly backed away. The small child whimpered gripping onto David.
Micheal smashed the bottle, flinging glass and alcohol everywhere. “BACK OFF DAVID…Don’t make me hurt you too. Back off and listen to me. Unless you wanna get hurt too”
He shock his head, David wasn’t gonna leave the kid alone. He wasn’t gonna hand them over to them. He felt torn, his friend was lost…he wanted to help him…but he needed to get Blair out of here. When he didn’t move, Micheal started to run towards him.
David froze, everything felt in slow-mo. Micheal running towards him, the child screaming. But David’s mind was racing.
No no no. I can’t.
*Step*
“Don’t try anything fucking insect”
*Step*
no no…don’t hurt them please…they were just protecting him.
*Step*
Can’t let him hurt them. Won’t let them hurt them.
*Step*
Images flashed in David’s mind. Seeing his friend in a drunken rage, and seeing that drunken bastard’s fist dripping with blood.
The second his friend was readying to strike a punch with the bottle, David drove a fist right in Micheal’s face.
Micheal stuttered and looked back, astonished at what happened.
“Get to the door Blair. Don’t look back.” David whispered. Blair quickly ran to the door and Micheal tried to chase him only to get punched in the stomach by David.
“No no, ya ain’t going anywhere. Ya staying here to sober up…get help.”
Micheal slashed the bottle cutting David’s face. David tripped Micheal and grabbed his blue knife, holding it in defense. He’d worry about any cuts and bruises later. His body was shaking.
Micheal glared before chuckling, “oh using your mommy’s knife??? Mmmmmmh???? Are you scared David? Of me? All drunk like this? Remind you of something?”
David glared and tightened his grip, “Ain’t gonna let a drunk fucker ruin another child’s life. Don’t care if you’re their dad, don’t care now.”
“Ohhhhh David, what are you talking about? I’m fixing it.”
David quickly wielded his knife to block the lunging bottle.
“You aren’t like this? What happened?”
David pushed forward, staggering Micheal a bit.
“What do you mean? I’ve always been like this! I’m just a good actor. Ever since that kid came into my life, shits always been about it. Never on me.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was the man he knew just a facade? Something to make life seem normal? Why would he do that?
“Micheal we can work this out, we can find you help”
“I DONT NEED HELP!!!” Micheal lunged and tackled David to the ground. Trying to stab his face with the bottle. David was quick and blocked the bottle, earning a long cut on his arm. They stared into each other’s eyes.
“I just need you to join your parents. Ironic that’ll you’ll die the same way the did…just at a smaller scale.”
Why would he say that? WHY WOULD HE
David lost it, he threw Micheal off him and slashed the knife at him. Aiming for his chest. David slashed and slashed in blind fury, he thought he was seeing red before, but now it was brighter. He didn’t care anymore. He was on edge when he first saw him and every second this Bastard talked pushed him closer and closer. He finally snapped. Telling Micheal about his past was something he thought would strengthen their bond, show his trust. And he used it against him.
The two men wrestled around knocking things around and off places. Smacking each other’s heads into furniture and walls breaking most of them. David punched and slashed, eventually shattering the bottle with the knife with a well placed stab. With his weapon gone Micheal became more furious and tried scratching and biting David, but David quickly dodged and using his knife as a shield blocked most attacks. Sometime during the fight he pulled out the other knife and duel wielded them against his former friend. He pushed Micheal around until he managed to stab one of his knives into Micheals hand against the floor, causing a scream of agony to fill the air. David held Micheal down and with a knife to Micheal’s throat leaned down and whispered “I’d kill ya, it’d be like putting down a sick animal. But I’ll give ya a chance to fix yourself. Doesn’t matter if ya do though. Ya ain’t ever gonna see me or Blair again. So stay down, or I’ll keep ya down forever. You know it’s not my first time killing someone. Don’t make me add to my count.” David hissed out the last part before, slowly backing off the exhausted man. He yanked his bloodied knife out of Micheal’s hand and shoved his foot onto his chest. Glaring down for a second before walking to the door.
Micheal didn’t stand back up, and laid on the ground breathing as David walked out the entrance. He looked over and saw Blair against the wall, covering their ears and curled up.
“It’s over kid…let’s get out of here.” David said, extending a hand to the kid.
“Di-did you k-k-kill him?” Poor kid looked worried over their father. It made sense, though. They did love their father and just wanted the best for him, even though his father didn’t love him back.
“Nah kid, just knocked some sense into him. He’ll be okay, but for now I’m gonna watch over ya until he’s better alright?”
The kid looked down almost sad but relieved about the news. The kid nodded and grabbed David’s hand.
“Alright, let’s go then. I got a friend who brought me here, and she’ll bring us back to my home okay?” They nodded and David paused, “just so ya know…they’re a bean,” he watched the kid stiffen in fear, “but don’t worry, she won’t hurt ya. I trust her fully. She’s a good one, promise” the kid loosened a bit but still seemed on edge.
David guided the kid back towards the alley and walked through the walls of each building until they came across the hotel. He was grateful that Laura had offered to bring him to the city due to the bad weather. Flying a bird in a storm is never the best idea, and David only did that if there was no other options and he needed to leave. David watched the kid, noticing the kid eyed some of his cuts. Oh yeah…wounds…forgot about those..whatever.
Eventually the pair made it into the hotel walls. Heading up, David looked into each room trying to find Laura. He knew the floor she was on but had forgotten which room. Soon he found her room by peeking in and seeing her laying upside down on her bed. Her long curled brown hair a frazzled mess as she had a bored look on her face. Her rectangle glasses were on the verge of falling off but she didn’t seem to care.
Carefully David stepped out of the wall, holding onto Blair and giving them a gentle rub reminding them that everything was okay.
Once near the human David shouted, “Hey Laura! I’m back!”
Laura was startled and instantly slide off the bed, hitting her head on the floor. She glance over and smiled, “ow, you’re back that was quick, so ho-“ she froze spotting the child, “did you kidnap another kid?”
“First off, I’ve never kidnapped a kid. I tend to find them alone or abandoned, secondly…yes in a way but it’s fine…I’ll explain everything later.”
Laura made an annoyed face before awkwardly pushing herself off the ground and back onto the bed. She swung her legs around and got out of the bed before she lowered herself onto her stomach in front of the pair, “alright well you better explain, but for now.. Hello there, I’m Laura. You must be Blair, David’s talked about you and how you’re so brave and have this call to adventure.”
Blair stood behind David, clearly terrified of the bean, but as she softly spoke he slowly poked his head around and started to get closer.
“Don’t worry I won’t hurt you. Even though I’m a bit of a clumsy mess,” she chuckled, “hey you look hungry,” and with a glance towards David, “and like you’ve been through hell. Want something to eat? I got snacks and stuff”
The kid shyly nodded and with that Laura pushed herself up to a sitting position before extending her hand onto the ground, “go ahead and climb on. I’ll set you two on the bed and grab the snacks okay?”
With a small nudge of encouragement from David the pair of borrowers climbed onto her hand. Once they were secure and settled, Laura slowly lifted them up and onto the couch, not once standing. They both walked off with Blair still holding onto David, Laura stood up and walked over to a bag that had been thrown into the corner of the room. She returned with a small water bottle and two clear bags, one filled with snacks like pretzels, chocolates, nuts and the other with bandages and creams.
She set the items down and opened the bag of snack and water, setting them both down in front of the pair, “go ahead and get what you want, just don’t eat too fast” she smiled and watched as the kid cautiously approached the bag. Reaching in they grabbed a few things and snacked on them. Sitting next to the bottle watching the bean.
David walked closer to her grabbing some bandages to treat his wounds, “so you’ll tell me what happened?” She asked.
“I’ll give ya a summary, Dad’s a drunken addict who abuses the kid so I fucked him up a bit”
“Oh…oh, you okay?”
David paused as glance at Laura who was giving him a concerned look, “I’ll be fine…”
“Talk to me if you aren’t okay?”
“I will.”
“You’re lying but okay.”
David glared at Laura who only smirked, “what it’s true,” she said defensively, “you usually don’t like talking about stuff like that and that’s okay. I’ll be there when you want to.”
“Yeah yeah, I’m just worried about the kid is all.”
They both looked over as the kid was enjoying themselves with the snacks.
“It’ll be okay, we’ll figure it all out tomorrow. It’s late and you guys look like you need some sleep”
David simply nodded as he worked on bandaging himself up.
Eventually Laura laid onto the bed next to the pair yawning, “alright it’s probably best we get some shut eye, so…”
Laura squeaked as she felt a hug around her finger, which was causally laying on the bed near the borrowers. She glanced down at her hand to see the tiny child holding onto her.
“Thank you for the snacks”
Laura smiled, “it’s no problem. Here may I try something?”
The child nodded, and Laura gently scooped the child up and moved herself to laying on her back. She placed the child right on top of her heart as she laid back against the pillows and pulled the blankets back over her lower body.
“You okay there or do you want to sleep on the other pillow with David?”
David who had already laid on the other pillow looked over to see the scene. He shook his head. Laura knew that her heart beat was soothing to kids, hell David knew it was soothing, he just didn’t like being held for so long. Made him feel powerless.
The kid listened to her gentle heartbeat and shook their head, “this is nice” they snuggled up and Laura gently placed the thinner sheet over their body as a blanket. It didn’t take long for the kid to knock out.
“I’m surprised they took to ya so quickly” David said
“Well you showed them I was trustworthy so I guess it was easy to build trust up with them. Poor kid though…with everything that happened…”
“Yea…” David glanced away
“Don’t worry we’ll talk about it later.”
“We’ll have to ask the kid for more details. I don’t know much. Hell I don’t know who or how that letter was sent. Ugh I’m so confused and frustrated!” David pouted angrily.
“Hey calm down, you have your reasons for what you did. Just rest for now okay?”
David sighed and nodded. With a smile Laura took off her glasses and laid down to fall asleep, one hand carefully over the sleeping child. David however wouldn’t fall asleep, he stayed alert watching the shadows and walls for a few hours. Making sure Micheal wouldn’t come out of them. Eventually David passed out, he’d have to deal with this tomorrow morning sometime but that’s for later. The kid was safe now and that’s all that mattered right now.
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justagemini19 · 1 year
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Just realized I went from the potential success child in my family to the disappointment… but my family doesn’t even know how disappointing I really am
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gomdnow · 2 years
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Nationwide FMCSA Drug & Alcohol Consortium
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placenta-please · 2 years
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In other news:
I’m 60 days sober from alcohol(my drug of choice) today! I’m also 48 days sober from weed, which isn’t as impressive, but still very cool. I’ve also quit energy drinks, but I don’t remember what day I did that so who knows how many days that has been.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be proud yet or not but I feel pretty good about making it through at least some of these crazy times sober.
I’m doing my best and learning as I go. Shout out to my friends and family for helping me get through the time I’ve made it so far.
Fuck addiction. I’m raw-dogging this shit.
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myimaginaryradio · 2 months
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Spill The Wine - Eric Burdon & War - 1970
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spoofamoofa · 2 months
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Labyrinth
1.0 the friend
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___________
The Jones Sisters had moved in with Simone Jackson, a Disco singer and a friend of Daisy's who she met at party one night and both young women had hit it off.
Simone Jackson (Disco Singer): To say I was shocked when I walked into my apartment and saw those two try to cook something together isn't even half of it [Laugh], Neither of them had a cooking bone in their body. Well maybe except for Rory
Lorelei Jones: I thought Simone hated me at first, Mostly because three people couldn't really fit in her tiny apartment so I either had to stay on the pull out couch or room with Daisy [Laugh], and knowing what Daisy is up to at night I picked the pull out couch. Simone also made me go finish high school since I was still young and made Daisy get job to be able to pay rent after I graduated I got a job,
While Daisy had gotten a job at a record store, Lorelei started working at local diner as a waitress soon after she had graduated high school although the young blonde had copied her older sister's party lifestyle, she was still shy and quite timid and had a hard time taking orders do to her shyness, It was during a lunch rush we're she was struggling that she made friends with another waitress
"Do you need help taking that to table number three?" A girl that looked to be a year or two older then Lorelei asked, pointing at the tray she was struggling to hold. She nodded and handed the heavy tray to the girl with brunette and walked away as quickly as possible
Sadie Applewood(Lorelei's Best friend/Actress): [gasps] Oh my god, she never spoke a word to anyone at that diner, not even to the customers she would just nod at them when they would order
After her shift she was changing in the locker room. She had taken off her top when she heard the same southern voice from earlier.
"Cute bra, where did you get it" the brunette asked as she opened her locker and grabbed her clothes before sitting down on the bench to take her boots off
Sadie Applewood: I didn't know how to start the conversation and the bra was really cute and she still never told me where she got it
Lorelei Jones:[Laughing] she won the award for most awkward way to start a conversation
The two girls stared at each other for what felt like hours before Sadie spoke.
"Sorry about that weird compliment, my name is Samantha but everyone just calls me Sadie" she reached her hand out for the young girls hand to shake but Lorelei just looked at her face then her hand and turned away to continue to dress herself. "Not much of a talker" the older girl pulled her hand away and tried to think of a way to save the dying conversation between the two women but it was too late and Lorelei quickly grabbed her bag from her locker and started to walk toward the door but she didn't notice that she had dropped her journal with all the songs her and Daisy had written together but Sadie had noticed and quickly picked the small book up which had opened when feel out of Lorelei's bag. The chatty brunette had peeked at the pages and was amazed, she quickly closed the book and quickly caught up with the owner of the journal who was leaving through the back door of dinner which was in the locker room, ignoring the fact that the blond was topless she quickly slammed the door open and yelled out to the poor girl
"Hey are these songs yours there amazing! Seriously you need to get into a studio" Lorelei had froze and turned around to see a busty topless brunette in-front of her holding out her journal, she quickly tried to grab it away from the girl but Sadie quickly pulled the journal out reach which made the young blonde's blood boil.
"I'll give you it back if you answer my question, Did you write these songs, yes or no?" Lorelei rolled her eyes and let out small sigh before nodding at the brunette's questions and the girl's eyes had light up like kid during Christmas
Lorelei Jones: Sadie was practically jumping up down
[Laughing]
"OH MY GOD!!" Sadie screamed her southern drawl shining through. " these lyrics are amazing! Are you in a band?"
Lorelei Jones: after Sadie had chased me down half naked we got a lot closer and she got me to actually talk to her and we had a lot in common ,she was looking for a chance to become a actress
Sadie Applewood: Now I born raised in Texas and my parents owned a pretty popular bar in Austin and all my brothers worked there after they graduated high school and I was terrified of just spending the rest of life in some bar till the day a die so begged my parents to just give me chance to see if I can make as a actress in LA,[Laugh] and surprisingly they did.
Daisy Jones: the first time I met Sadie was when she [Lorelei] invited her out on the town with us, [Laugh] and lord could that southern bell drink. She actually won a drinking contest at one of the parties we were at and we won free weed because of her.[Sigh] I actually still have the picture we took together that night
It was a month or two Lorelei really couldn't remember but still worked at that stupid diner and both her and her sister weren't even closer to getting their music in a studio. The young woman was behind the counter doodling on the notepad she was meant to take orders on but the lunch rush was slow and Lorelei was bored out of mind. She was humming along to the rhythm of a song that was playing on the radio, when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.
"Good morning, Rory"the spunky brunette said squeezing her friend's waist. Lorelei rolled her eyes and let out a small laugh.
" you know it's like 1 in the afternoon?" Sadie had let her go and had turned her body to look at her blonde haired friend. "So? I didn't get to say good morning to you this morning and I love you so much." She had said the last part louder so that small amount of customers would look at them with a weird expression. Lorelei cheeks redden as she lightly slapped her friend on the shoulder before turning back to her notepad.
"So got any plans tonight" Sadie asked as she hoisted herself on top of the counter since no one was sitting there and she honestly didn't care if anyone was
"No,why you have something planned?" Lorelei looked up at her friend who had a smirk on her face.
"Well I was planning to head to Filthy McNasty's later tonight, I heard some new band is playing there and you know how I feel about a man with a guitar and you need to get out and talked to some men" Sadie had shot her friend a glance, which was very much targeted at her sexuality, or the lack of it, Lorelei, was looking at her friend like she just said aliens were real and she was pregnant with one.
"Yeah, cause every guy wants to a girl in bed that's taller them, that will do wonders for their egos"
Lorelei Jones: I was a pretty self conscious kid growing up, I was taller then most girls and I got made fun of for it  but not only by the boys in my grade but also by the girls, [Sighs] God they were awful, those she-Demons made me hate changing in the locker-room
"Come on Rory, you have legs that anyone would kill for and your more then just your hight and if I guy can't look passed that then he's an ass...." Lorelai cracked a smile at her friend's words that made her feel a bit better about herself , ".....and if you don't come with me I'll blame you for my kidnapping and murder" Sadie had cheeky grin on face that annoyed the brunette's friend more times then she could count
Lorelai let a sigh ready to give in to friends demands but was stopped by a male customer waving her down, "we can decide about what we're doing after work, but I don't take too kindly to being gaslit into going out with you" the young blonde said as she poked her friends before grabbing one of the three coffee pots the dinner had and getting her notepad and shoving it in her apron's pocket
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AT LONG LAST. This is one of those chapters I have had planned for months and already had a chunk of it written, which ironically made it harder to work on because instead of freewriting I had to figure out how to get to the part I knew was there. But here it is! More Terrible Telepathic Boyfriends! With uh...a bit of emphasis on the "Terrible" this time...
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piplupod · 6 months
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evening of getting high and watching bill n ted :] good way to end the day of cleaning methinks
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bansurii · 17 days
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The Recipient, Part II
{{ reader discretion advised | tw!!! addiction, hospital visits, drug dealer }}
Amara's journey to becoming an egg donor was shaped by a series of poignant and challenging moments, each leaving an indelible mark on her soul. Born into a modest family in the heart of Harmony Springs, she discovered resilience and strength early in life.
As a child, Amara faced the untimely loss of her mother, a pillar of love and support. The void left by her absence was profound, forcing Amara to confront the fragility of life and the depth of her own emotional resilience. In the aftermath, her father, a determined man with a heart full of love for his daughter, became both the anchor and the sail in the storm of their grief. But his love and strength was nowhere near enough to keep Amara within the safe confines of her own sanity. 
Amara's descent into the world of marijuana was a fateful dance with escapism, a desperate attempt to numb the persistent ache that haunted her every waking moment. The once-charming streets of Harmony Springs, now tainted by the shadows of her struggle, bore witness to a transformation that unfolded in the quiet corners and dimly lit alleys.
The origin of Amara's connection with this illicit refuge remained hazy, lost in the fog of her grief-stricken memories. It could have been the influence of a friend seeking solace in similar escapes, or perhaps a moment of vulnerability at a party where the air was thick with both smoke and despair. The allure of the forbidden, fueled by portrayals in movies and television, gradually tightened its grip on Amara's fragile resolve. She found herself entangled in a subculture where the scent of marijuana masked the scent of sorrow, and the smoke became a veil shielding her from the harsh realities of loss. The sweet release promised by the drug temporarily silenced the echoes of grief, allowing Amara to drift away from the pain that threatened to consume her.
As Amara surrendered to the numbing effects, she couldn't help but acknowledge the disapproval her mother would express if she could witness her daughter's descent into this shadowy realm. The irony of seeking solace in something that only widened the void left by her mother's absence was not lost on Amara, but the call of the wild proved too alluring to resist. The fleeting escape became a deceptive companion, offering a momentary illusion of peace while tightening its grip on Amara's vulnerability. The haunting memories of her mother's love and the warmth of family seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the transient euphoria induced by the smoke. 
In this fragile dance with self-destructive tendencies, Amara clung to the false comfort marijuana provided, oblivious to the toll it took on her emotional resilience and the strained relationships with those who cared about her. The quaint town that had once cradled her childhood dreams now bore witness to a different kind of journey—one marked by the fragility of a soul seeking solace in the dark corners of despair. But marijuana was not the only vice Amara would obtain. 
Amara's journey into the depths of despair took a darker turn as she delved into a world of illicit substances beyond marijuana. The allure of little blue pills and capsules filled with various substances beckoned her, promising an escape from the relentless storm of grief that continued to batter her soul. In her quest for solace, Amara's desperation led her to the doorstep of Sam, a man entrenched in the dangerous underworld of drug smuggling.
As she approached Sam with a mix of determination and impatience, she sought the refuge that these pills could provide. The exchange between them unfolded in a clandestine dance of whispered conversations and furtive glances. Sam, accustomed to dealing with the shadows, recognized the depth of Amara's pain in her wired and tired eyes. He sensed an opportunity to use her desperation to his advantage.
Amara's straightforward approach, fueled by a willingness to pay for her chosen escape, caught Sam off guard. His initial reluctance wavered in the face of her resolute gaze. The transaction took an unexpected turn as Sam invited her into a space that defied the stereotypical image of a drug dealer's lair – a surprisingly clean and well-kept environment.
Amara couldn't help but notice the contrast between Sam's living space and the usual haunts of drug dealers. She hesitated to inquire, her curiosity tempered by the urgency of her need. The cleanliness, however, hinted at a complexity within Sam that went beyond the stereotypical drug dealer persona.
Guided to the kitchen, Amara's eyes fixated on Sam's imposing figure, pondering the strength hidden beneath his broad back and chiseled arms. Her mind danced with thoughts of the potential violence that could erupt from those bulging fists, a testament to the turbulent world in which she found herself entangled.
The transaction unfolded as Sam listed an array of substances laid out on the kitchen island. Amara's familiarity with some, but not all, of the drugs prompted her to seek clarification. The encounter, though tinged with tension, took on an unexpected educational aspect as Sam explained the psychedelic nature of 5-MeO-DiPT.
Amara's initial anticipation for more information was met with Sam's abrupt end to the introduction. The reality of her choices lay before her, a selection of substances promising to dull the edges of her pain. The drugs, like a sinister palette of temporary relief, beckoned her to make a choice that would further entwine her in the web of self-destruction. The kitchen, once a symbol of warmth and sustenance, became a haunting stage for decisions that would shape Amara's destiny in the shadows of her grief.
Amara's gaze lingered on the array of drugs laid out before her, each offering a different path of escape from the torment that gripped her soul. The choices presented by Sam felt like a crossroads, each option leading to an uncertain destination. In that moment, the kitchen transformed into a surreal landscape, the clean surfaces and well-organized space providing an incongruous backdrop to the darkness unfolding within Amara's heart.
Her eyes flitted from one substance to another, contemplating their effects and implications. The allure of each pill, each capsule, whispered promises of relief, a respite from the gnawing pain that had become a constant companion. Sam, observing her contemplation, leaned against the kitchen counter with an air of detached nonchalance, his eyes betraying the weight of experience and a hint of cynicism.
Amara's mind raced as she weighed the options. Oxy's offered a numbing embrace, codeine a milder escape. The psychedelic substances—2CT2, 2CT7, and 5-MeO-DiPT—seemed to dance on the fringes of reality, inviting her to explore altered states of consciousness. Then there were the basic e-pills, a familiar choice in a sea of unfamiliarity.
"What is the 5-MeO-DiPT like?" she questioned, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and trepidation.
Sam, now a reluctant guide through this pharmacological labyrinth, began to provide glimpses into the effects of each substance. The 5-MeO-DiPT, he explained, was a psychedelic akin to LSD but with its own distinct characteristics. The information, delivered with a detached matter-of-factness, underscored the gravity of the choices laid out before her.
As Amara stood at this crossroads, she couldn't shake the realization that each pill represented not just a chemical escape but a deeper plunge into the unknown. The initial allure of escape now mingled with a sobering awareness of the risks and consequences. The clean and orderly surroundings of Sam's kitchen seemed incongruent with the chaos Amara was about to introduce into her own life.
In that charged moment, Amara made her decision, her hand reaching out to claim her chosen path of escape. The exchange of money for substances sealed a pact between her and the shadows that loomed over her fractured existence. The transaction completed, Sam's eyes lingered on Amara, his expression revealing a fleeting sense of understanding that transcended the transactional nature of their interaction.
As Amara left Sam's space, the weight of her choices settled upon her shoulders. The substances nestled in her possession were not just pills; they were fragments of a desperate journey, each one carrying the potential to further blur the boundaries between pain and fleeting relief. The kitchen, now tainted by the choices made within its confines, became a haunting backdrop to Amara's descent into a world where escape and self-destruction were twisted partners in a dance with consequences yet to unfold.
As Amara's fingers closed around the small pill of 5-MeO-DiPT, a subtle tension lingered in the air. Sam's eyes, which had previously held a hint of understanding, now conveyed a momentary hesitation. He studied Amara's face, her eyes reflecting a blend of anticipation and desperation, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed on the verge of saying something more.
Before handing over the psychedelic substance, Sam took a step back, his weathered features etched with a cryptic expression. He spoke in a tone that resonated with a weight beyond the physical substances they were exchanging.
"Here's a riddle for you, darlin'," he said, his voice taking on a reflective cadence. "Sometimes, what you seek in the shadows may cast a light brighter than you can bear. The paths we choose have a way of echoing back, their whispers heard when the haze of the moment lifts."
Amara, still caught in the throes of her own turmoil, raised an eyebrow in confusion. The cryptic words seemed like an enigma wrapped in mystery, and she struggled to decipher their meaning. Her impatience, however, overpowered any inclination to delve deeper into Sam's riddle.
"Look, I'm not here for philosophy. Just give me what I paid for," she retorted, her gaze unwavering.
Sam sighed, relenting to the transaction, but his gaze lingered on Amara for a moment longer. As he handed over the small pill, he added with a wistful yet cautionary tone, "Some doors can't be closed once opened, and the journey you embark upon may reveal more than you bargained for. Remember these words when the echoes find their way back to you."
Amara, oblivious to the layers of meaning in Sam's riddle, pocketed the pill without a second thought. The die had been cast, and the kitchen's once-clean surfaces bore witness to the pact sealed in the shadowy corners of desperation. She left, the weight of her choices settling into the depths of her being, unaware of the intricate web she had woven.
As the door closed behind her, Sam's gaze lingered on the fading echoes of her presence. The riddle, a cryptic warning woven into the transaction, hung in the air like a premonition. The consequences of Amara's choice, entwined with the psychedelic substance she now possessed, were destined to unfold in ways that even Sam, with his years of experience, could not fully predict.
Five months later
As the final day of the arduous process arrived, the sterile hospital room remained a cocoon of tension, its atmosphere laden with the lingering scent of antiseptics and the persistent symphony of machines. Amara, still fragile and weakened, lay in her bed, the echo of her once vibrant spirit still haunting the room like a ghost of the past. Beside her, her father, Jared, sat with a heaviness that seemed to have settled permanently on his shoulders.
The beeping machines, which had become a constant companion, created an eerie melody that underscored the gravity of the situation. The large tube, a stark reminder of the tumultuous journey Amara had undertaken, protruded from her mouth. Today was the day to remove it, marking a pivotal moment in her recovery. The nurses, with a mix of professionalism and genuine concern, approached the task, understanding the significance of this symbolic step toward reclaiming a semblance of normalcy.
As they carefully removed the tubes, Jared's eyes, still weary and bloodshot from countless sleepless nights, watched the process with a mixture of relief and apprehension. The sight of the tubes being extracted from Amara's frail body did little to ease the turmoil within him. The battle was far from over; she would still need to keep the IVs for another week, according to the doctors' plans.
Despite the tentative steps towards recovery, Jared's vigilance remained unwavering. The uncomfortable chair had become his refuge, and the rhythm of beeping machines and the distant hum of the hospital formed the backdrop to his relentless concern. He had taken off work whenever possible, choosing to be a constant presence by Amara's side as she navigated the precarious journey back to health.
The immediate concern was not addressing the deeper issues of Amara's struggle with drugs; those battles would come in due time. For now, Jared longed for the familiar sounds of daily life to envelop them once more—perhaps preparing lunch together, discussing future plans, or engaging in mundane yet comforting routines that symbolized a life beyond the shadows.
The doctor's entrance, though disrupting the somber atmosphere, brought a glimmer of hope. Amara, with hazy eyes and a stirred expression, slowly grappled with the reality of her surroundings. Panic and discomfort gripped her, but Jared leaned forward to offer comfort. As the doctor explained the steps ahead, the weight of reality pressed upon him once more.
The path of recovery was uncertain, and the challenges ahead were formidable. In that hospital room, where echoes of despair lingered, Jared clung to hope, yearning for the day when the rhythm of a washing machine would replace the symphony of beeping machines—a day when the simple joys of life would be reclaimed by his daughter.
Part One Part Two
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