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I ran through the abandoned warehouse that he had told me about so many damn times on my voicemail. Ignoring the random junkies that were hollering at me, pleading for more drugs, begging for another hit. I tried my best to sideswipe the filth, piss, shit, and garbage all around me. I sprinted past the graffiti walls, covering my nose and mouth, trying like hell not to inhale the mold-contaminated air and decay that had taken over the shithole. Piles of trash surrounded the dirty mattresses and chairs, infested with rats and ghostlike junkies that appeared dead but could have been alive. I knew where I would find him. He always called from the same spot, leaving me voicemail after voicemail. Describing the back of the warehouse that looked over the harbor.
I turned the corner, and saw him. My once favorite maroon beanie placed securely on his head. I couldn’t control my emotions.
I hated him in that second.
I despised the love I still had for him in my broken, fucked-up heart in that moment.
I slowed down as I got closer, my calculated steps slow and precise. I wanted to face him. I wanted to look into his eyes like I had done so many damn times before, even though I knew there wouldn’t be anything but a hollow existence. A shell of the man I once knew gazing back at me.
The truth was eating me alive as if I was dying right along with him.
I couldn’t do it.
Not anymore.
I stood behind the tattered couch, staring at the back of his head. He nodded off. The craving completely took over me, rotting its way into the empty space that now held his soul.
I shook my head in disgust and bewilderment with tears streaming down my face. This was all that was left of him.
No more I love you’s.
No more I promises.
No more tomorrows.
No. More. Austin.
“Why?!” I shouted, my chest heaving and my heart breaking bit by bit. “Why do you do this to me? Why do you keep doing this to me?” I sobbed uncontrollably. “I can’t fucking do this anymore! I can’t watch you die! I can’t watch you kill yourself more than I already have!” I bawled, my body shaking.
“I hate you! Do you hear me, Austin?! I fucking hate you!” I screamed loud enough to break glass.
Heaving, I leaned over and placed my hands on my knees for support, struggling to breathe in and out.
“Why do you do this to me? Please, Austin, please fucking enlighten me! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!” I whimpered hysterically.
He didn’t try to comfort me like he always did. He didn’t try to hold me, touch me, kiss me, or reassure me.
Lie to me.
Nothing.
I wiped my face, standing to look at him again. He hadn’t moved from the place he sat. His body was lifeless.
“Austin,” I murmured so low I could hardly hear myself. “Austin,” I said a little louder.
My feet moved on their own accord. Inch by inch, I made my way around the couch, old needles, bags, and God knows what else crunching under my feet. I felt as though I was having an out of body experience. I was there, but I wasn’t. Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard before I was standing fully in front of him.
“Please, God,” I found myself saying as I slowly opened my eyes.
My body shuddered as I took in the needle that was still lodged into his vein, his eyes were closed, and his head leaned over to the side.
“No!” I lunged into action, tearing the syringe out of his arm and throwing it as hard as I could across the place I called Hell on Earth.
“No! No! No! No!” I repeated, grabbing his face, making him look at me. All the color had drained from his body, his lips turned blue.
“Austin!” I shook him. “Austin!” I shook him harder. “AUSTIN!” I slapped him across the face.
Nothing.
