The rain pattered on the tin rooftop and the young man taking shelter there drifted off to a troubled sleep. He had just lost his best friend to a mutual evil–their drug of choice killed the man he considered a brother. Visions of the empty shell he found glared through his eyelids though he slept, and he could smell death and the scent of heroin in his nostrils. He considered how he got there as he lay, once again awake, listening to the sound of the earth cleansing itself. If only he could be so cleansed.
Avery was gone, but what to do? Liam was entirely too proud to go to anyone for help–his experience with NA was that it was just a way to find new ways to score. He was convinced he needed to stop using smack, but had no clue how to do it on his own. He did not believe in God, so he could not ask Him for help, and his new girlfriend was very possessive of him; there was help to be had but he could not make use of it because of pride and their relationship. They shared their own drug of choice–acid, while sitting in the woods watching the stars. Sure, the sun would rise again, and like George Carlin, acid didn’t seem to cause too many problems for him and even curbed the jonesing for the heroin, but he needed to get off the dope before it killed him too. There were too many people who loved him. He knew this, but tried to distance himself from it. Fear. Self loathing. Shame.
The whisper at his shoulder was always present, but he could not; would not hear it. It was the still small voice that whispered to him to seek help. But he drowned it out with more dope. More weed. More acid. More stubborn pride. And for what? Pride. Pride goeth before destruction, and haughty spirit before a fall.
Behind him a woman cries to God to reach him. She prays, and holds out her arms to welcome him into a loving embrace–he used to say he could give hugs all day. His girlfriend has taught him that he cannot, in fact, do that. He swears he does not like to be touched now. Guilt consumes him and he pushes away anyone who does not share his habit. And those who love him shed wracking sobs and tears that do not end.
Turn and walk back to them Liam. It is time to go home to where you are loved.