Three shorts
by Bradford Middleton

 

 

Free At Last

 

‘Well,’ Tommy thinks as he finally comes around from a sleep that has consumed him for, well honestly he isn’t really sure, ‘that was some night’ but, ‘hold on, where the hell am I?’

It is only then he realises, shit it’s happened again, shit he’s almost died in the pursuit of a good time and, yet again, he’s gone and landed in a nondescript hospital bed as the tubes running from his mouth and the huge pile of equipment that is now beeping frantically suggest this time it was a bit closer than usual. 

“Doctor!! Doctor!! It’s Room 13, Room 13!!” he hears someone scream in the corridor and almost instantly his room is a hive of activity. 

“Well Mr Meyer it sure is good to see you back here in the land of the living,” a man in a long white coat says stepping forward from the crowd who’ve gathered. 

“But you must understand that if you keep pumping that stuff into your veins you’ll be back here again, do you get me Mr Meyer?”

“Ah don’t call me that, my dad is Mr Meyer, I’m Tommy!”

“Well look Tommy you’ve got to stop, you’ve just got too… you know this is the third time in the last twelve months we’ve stepped in and saved you…”

Tommy merely stares at the floor but something in his mind is telling him the doctor is right for once.  He can’t carry on like this, he can’t carry on almost killing himself every weekend just to have something to look forward to, he just can’t.  

“You’re right doc but what can I do?”

“Well we can get you set up with a detox program which’ll take about a month and then once you are clean, as far as we are concerned anyway, you’ll be returned to society and we highly recommend you take up NA membership.”

“NA?”

“Yes Tommy they are good people and they will help you but first of all you’ve got to help yourself…”

“OK doc, so how does this work?”

The next month passes in a whirlwind of seizures, of cravings so bad they even surprise Tommy but he’s got to say some of the hallucinations are downright hysterical; the dancing syringe being his own particular favourite, until finally the day comes and he is a free man but almost immediately he is a man in demand.

‘Hey, you alright? I’m holding if you’re needing’ reads the first message on his smart-phone and he knows, he just knows, something has got to change.  He simply hits delete but he knows not all of them will be that simple and sure enough, within seconds of leaving the facility his phone begins ringing.

“Hey man, where you been?” a familiar voice croaks down the phone and Tommy knows immediately.  He needs a meeting right now before it all falls apart again.

 

 

 

All or Nothing

 

Lizzie gazes at a reflection she barely recognises in the dressing room mirror as her fingers go through the routine that has, it seems almost overnight, become her new ritual, her new way of preparing for, well, just about anything this sad god-damn excuse of a life could throw at her.  A ritual she is now so used to undertaking it barely registers that she is getting ready to fix as she descends into the living hell of her situation.  The horror show of her reflection means no amount of make-up or sexy underwear can cover her apparent hideousness from the baying mob of perverts and creeps who make up the crowd at this time of the week. 

“You’re on in 5 minutes Lizzie,” a voice announces and she knows there is nothing for it but to get higher than she can ever remember and just go for it.  She loads the pipe strong and immediately upon inhalation she can feel its utter madness start to creep inside. 

Tonight has to be her best night, her best night in weeks, hell it could be months, it could even be years since she pulled in the kind of money she needs to pay the damn rat-bastard of a dealer; to keep the supply coming as her demand rises.  Tonight she’s got to really show herself and, if she believed in such a thing she’d get down on her knees and pray to God but, hey, that just ain’t ever going to happen, not in this lifetime anyway, so there is nothing but the hope she can pry some thin guy with a fat wallet to pay for some private time.  And sure enough, soon into her routine she spies one, an innocent, hanging at the bar desperately trying to look tough with a wallet so fat it could last her days and as she moves on in she knows.  Within an hour she will grind him so hard the only evidence available will be a deranged smile, a pile of droll and an empty wallet but tonight, well tonight Lizzie is at last happy she walks out with it all…

 

 

 

Never Trust Your Lust

 

Jack is out walking, trying his very best to simply mind his own business but as soon as he sees her he knows, he just knows, only trouble can lay ahead.  As she approaches him his eyes devour her very soul, drowning deep in the depths of her sexy summer dress and desperate to see just what lays underneath. 

He immediately knows he’s got to do something, anything, to get her attention and almost as quickly he spies a supermarket convenience store opposite and a sudden plan of capturing this beautiful heart leaps to the front of his mind.  He runs across the street stopping traffic on his way and he knows immediately.  He spies a bucketful of flowers propped up by the front door and running he simply grabs a handful of bunches and carries right on in until he is prone at her feet. 

“Please,” he says his eyes locking with hers, “I… I… I’ve got to know you!” he begs but as she walks on without a care in the world Jack feels a great big hole open up beneath him.

‘So,’ he thinks sinking into despair, ‘this must be hell…’

 

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