Memoirs

I frantically picked it up and stuffed it into my pockets. A thought flashed in my mind. My father needed this money to save us and i was taking it to go score Mexican black tar heroin. That thought quickly passed and i moved with singular purpose, like an automaton, to the back door and quietly left. Quietly pushing the door closed from the outside. Only the slightest sound of the door closing with a puff of air from the inside pushing it's way through, like it was following me out --cherries, tonka beans and cedar.While crossing Parc Monseau on my way to Jasper's house (Jasper dealt heroin), I smoked a little crack to take the edge off. It felt burning cold as it filled my lungs. Then, I cooked some meth and smoked it. It was then I spotted three Gestapo officers smoking cigarettes by the main path in the center of the park and they looked over and i started walking toward them with purposeful strides. That was the rush of the drug. The meth. The crack. Pushing through me. I was half the size of the smallest one of them, but when I had that fire in me, I had a different structure. Everything changed. I moved differently. I saw differently. It was electric and hot and white energy, blinding and baneful. I wanted these guys dead. These fucking Nazis that would take my family away without remorse. They didn't care. I didn't care. It was noon in Parc Monseau in Strasbourg and I was high again and my family was about to be hauled off by the Gestapo. It was driving me toward them. Compelling me. I was just inside my own body watching and listening and the sounds were muffled and everything was clipped, like I was a thousand pieces. I was nine years old and I was high again.

Chapter 2

Fourteen or so hours since my last fix. Last fix was at Redmond's house. He told his mom we were going upstairs to play with his toy trains. Redmond had an amazing set of Carette trains. We sat on his floor. He handed me his belt. I rolled up my sleeve and wrapped his belt around my arm. I pulled it tight with my mouth. Old leather. The taste was familiar. Leather in my mouth. My body anticipating all the sensations, the thunderous calm, the shadows in a empty room.

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				I frantically picked it up and stuffed it into my pockets. A thought flashed in my mind. My father needed this money to save us and i was taking it to go score Mexican black tar heroin. That thought quickly passed and i moved with singular purpose, like an automaton, to the back door and quietly left. Quietly pushing the door closed from the outside. Only the slightest sound of the door closing with a puff of air from the inside pushing it's way through, like it was following me out --cherries, tonka beans and cedar.While crossing Parc Monseau on my way to Jasper's house (Jasper dealt heroin), I smoked a little crack to take the edge off. It felt burning cold as it filled my lungs. Then, I cooked some meth and smoked it. It was then I spotted three Gestapo officers smoking cigarettes by the main path in the center of the park and they looked over and i started walking toward them with purposeful strides. That was the rush of the drug. The meth. The crack. Pushing through me. I was half the size of the smallest one of them, but when I had that fire in me, I had a different structure. Everything changed. I moved differently. I saw differently. It was electric and hot and white energy, blinding and baneful. I wanted these guys dead. These fucking Nazis that would take my family away without remorse. They didn't care. I didn't care. It was noon in Parc Monseau in Strasbourg and I was high again and my family was about to be hauled off by the Gestapo. It was driving me toward them. Compelling me. I was just inside my own body watching and listening and the sounds were muffled and everything was clipped, like I was a thousand pieces. I was nine years old and I was high again. Chapter 2 Fourteen or so hours since my last fix. Last fix was at Redmond's house. He told his mom we were going upstairs to play with his toy trains. Redmond had an amazing set of Carette trains. We sat on his floor. He handed me his belt. I rolled up my sleeve and wrapped his belt around my arm. I pulled it tight with my mouth. Old leather. The taste was familiar. Leather in my mouth. My body anticipating all the sensations, the thunderous calm, the shadows in a empty room. Next page