Hi there, this was my first short story i ever wrote, if you like please let me know!
Cocaine and Abel
The afternoon sun hit his face, waking him. Abel grunted as he rolled over, and blearily peered at the clock. A little before three. Thursday? Probably Thursday. Another week’s worth of lectures missed. Something about “Thursday afternoon” nagged at his mind, and he suddenly remembered the follow-up appointment with the doctor in an hour. Damn. His folks had insisted he either see a shrink, or come home, and he’d already missed two appointments with the doc. Sitting up, he rolled a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply. He gathered up his discarded jeans and black t-shirt from the floor, dressed, and then waded through the empty spirit bottles littering the floor, searching for his bag, wallet, and most importantly, his earphones.
They never understood. All they wanted to do was push pills on him to make him feel “better”.
Again, going to a doctor, as if that will help you. You’re pathetic, just kill yourself, it’d make everyone happy.
Better they always said, “Take this and you will feel better” they said. “These pills will help you sleep better, these pills will stop your episodes”. Pills, pills, pills and more pills. But it was all lies. They made him feel worthless, needy and sleepless. His life had become a shadow of what it used to be.
While he was walking to the doctor’s, the voices in his head were drowned out by the music he was blasting in his ears. He was listening to a new metal band that he had found on the internet. That’s what he needed. Loud music. He arrived in the doctor’s waiting room and sat down, waiting for his doctor to come see him for his appointment. His mind wandered and thought back to two nights ago when one of his best friends had popped in to see him. “You can’t just shut us out Abel, you need to talk to us about this. Be strong, be courageous. Don’t let yourself be beaten by this” Jamie had said to him.
Don’t trust him. He’s lying to you, they’re all lying.
The words repeated and echoed in his brain. He knew he needed to talk about this, but he didn’t want to. It was easier to put on a fake smile and say that everything was fine.
Abel’s doctor arrived and walked him into his office.
“How are you today, Abel?” quizzed the doctor.
“Fine” replied Abel.
“Is the medication helping?” asked the doctor.
“I’m starting to feel a lot better” he lied easily.
Liar, liar pants on fire! You’re not even taking your medication!
“That’s great news, but we still have a long road ahead of us. I’m happy that you have decided to get help, and I know it’s not easy. Don’t get beaten down by this, most patients feel better after a while. Stay brave, stay strong and keep coming to see me weekly.” said the doctor returning the smile. “Now that’s all for today, off you go”.
Lies, lies, lies and even more lies. Don’t listen to him, he won’t help you.
Abel headed towards the bus stop, wearing a smirk. He rearranged his bag, took the bus and went into town. He needed to pick up a delivery.
He stopped at the train station and waited at the front, smoking his rolled up cigarette as usual. A man came up to him, shook his hand and the deal was done. He dropped the small package into his bag before quickly flicking his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his foot as he set off. A smirk crawled across his face as he took out his tobacco pouch and rolled himself another cigarette. He had decided to stop counting how much he smoked, since it made him feel more depressed than anything.
Abel’s smile faded quickly when he saw a beautiful girl walk past him. A blonde bombshell that he knew from class. He really liked her but never had the guts to say anything to her. He couldn’t talk to her, especially when he looked like this, near death’s door. He hung his head hoping she would not recognize him, but she did.
“Oh my god Abel, what are you doing here?” she asked with a smile.
“Nothing, I just had some business to take care of” replied Abel.
“Oh, you’re still taking them I see….” She muttered.
“I have to go, I’ll catch you some other time” said Abel, walking off before the sentence had even left his mouth.
Couldn’t even ask her out properly. You’re pathetic, can’t even ask a girl out. There’s only one answer for people like you.
He needed to get home as quickly as possible. He didn’t feel well. His head had started to swirl and his vision was blurry. Voices were screaming in his ears. He needed to get home.
Abel woke up at 6pm that night on his bed. He looked around and saw two people sitting in his chairs across from his computer. He recognized them. They were his friends. Well, they used to be, before everything happened. He looked through the slits of his eyes and saw them, Natalie and Jamie. Natalie had made three cups of tea, Abel’s one had two sugars, just how he liked it. He got up and sipped his tea, waiting for them to talk.
“You need to stop” blurted Natalie.
“Stop what?” questioned Abel.
“All this drug taking, the not telling us how you feel, everything” she replied.
“You’re not alone in this Abel, you need to talk to us. We’re your friends, we’re here for you. We love you and we don’t want to lose you” she continued.
Abel reached into his bag and pulled out his tobacco pouch and rolled himself a cigarette. He looked Natalie dead in the eyes and said “You wouldn’t understand, no one understands, get out of my sight”.
And you think they’re your friends? They won’t even help you, just making things worse.
And with that, he was alone again. They had disappeared like the smoke from his cigarette into thin air. He crushed out his cigarette in his fingers, the burning sensation making him feel alive. Abel walked over to his bag and got out another small pouch which he had bought earlier that afternoon at the train station. He opened the pouch and poured the white gold onto his desk. He got out his credit card and cut the charlie into four small lines.
The only way that Abel felt alive recently was with this stardust. He grabbed a five euro note that was in his back pocket and rolled it up. Two seconds later he felt like he was king of the world again. Invincible.
He went to the bathroom to make sure he looked presentable before heading out into town for a night of drinking. His eyes were bloodshot red and his pupils shone like obsidian. The whites of his eyes had turned a blood red and his sharp pupils stared into your soul. His hair had started growing again, blonde stubble was growing on his head and his face was unshaven, his ginger beard growing all around his chin looking as if he hadn’t been groomed in a while. He left the bathroom, and then left his room. He locked the door behind him, plugged in his headphones and walked to the bus stop. As he was leaving he passed by some people, who as soon as he had his back turned started screaming at him. He could vaguely work out what they were saying over the Omni-present music, but to be honest, he didn’t care. Help. Talk. Pills. Mental. That’s all he heard.
He arrived at the bus stop just as a man in a top hat walked by the bus stop. He suddenly stopped and sat down beside Abel.
Abel glanced at him but no one was there. “Sleep deprivation” Abel muttered to himself.
I told you. You should be in a loony bin, not wandering the streets like a crackhead. At least in a loony bin they can treat your craziness.
As he walked onto the bus, a thought popped into his head that reminded him about his medication. He was nearly out and the doctor would need to prescribe new meds to him. He needed to take his medication because he knew what would happen if he didn’t. He was brave enough to have asked for help, the least he could do is follow it through to the end. But he didn’t care about that now. Only one thing mattered. The only thing that mattered to Abel at that moment was getting to a bar and getting drunk.
Once on the bus, he got out his tobacco pouch and rolled a cigarette for when he would arrive in town. His head was spinning. Something was eating him up inside. Everything was eating him up inside. He needed a drink to calm his nerves. His music echoed in his brain. John Denver’s “Country Roads”, one of his favorites. It reminded him of his grandfather. Tonight wasn’t a night to feel sad, it was a night to have fun, to party, to make the most of everything. Abel walked off the bus and lit his cigarette. He took a long drag, closed his eyes and let the smoke fill his already tar coated lungs. He exhaled and opened his eyes, looking straight into the eyes of the person who had appeared in front of him. He recognized the person. It was one of his best friends. Or rather, someone who used to be his best friend. His headphones tumbled from his ears, and Abel waited for his friend to speak. He knew what he would say, he knew what he was thinking because Abel knew him all too well. He waited for the sentence that had become all too familiar to him recently, and without disappointment, his friend started talking.
“I know what you’re going through Abel, you need to talk to someone about this” said Henry.
“But, for now, let’s go have a drink” he continued.
And so off they went, to their favorite bar. Henry ordered his favorite, a pint of Guinness and Abel ordered a Jägerbomb, as usual. No one uttered a word, they just sat drinking silently. The confortable silence was broken by a cough. Abel looked up from his drink and stared into Henry’s eyes. Henry could see the pain in Abel’s eyes. He could see the despair and he could see that Abel was hurting inside, even if he did a good job of hiding it.
“We need to talk, Abel” muttered Henry.
“What about this time?” grumbled Abel.
“Why haven’t you spoken to anyone yet? You need to talk to someone, I can see the hurt in your eyes. You need to build up the courage and talk about this. You can’t stay alone all the time. It’s killing you.”
Abel lurched to his feet, ready to confront Henry but he wasn’t there. He had gone. People at the table beside Abel stared at him, looking at him as if he was crazy. Maybe they were right Abel had thought to himself. He quickly downed his glass and took out his credit card to pay. Everything around him was a blur. He handed his card to the bartender, paid his bill and left. Abel wandered for around ten minutes before he sat down and took out his tobacco pouch. He took out a piece of cardboard that he had left in there and rolled it into a small, perfect cylinder. Now wasn’t the time for a cigarette, he needed something stronger he said to himself. What he really needed, was something to take his mind off of everything. He licked the paper carefully, rolled the “something stronger” into a perfect cone and stuck it between his lips. He lit it and breathed in the smoke deeply, letting it fill all the nooks and crannies in his lungs, spreading the buzz all around. His head already felt lighter, and as he exhaled, a grin crept across his face. He picked up his bag and lazily started walking home. His feet were light and walked easily. The smile plastered on his face stayed there, and with a spring in his step, he continued on the long road home.
The alcohol and drugs had done their job and at that moment, he was happy. His mind was blank as his feet followed the path home that they were used to by now. Time passed and Abel’s mind began to wander. Why was all this happening to him? What had he done to deserve this? He passed by a bus stop and saw the man in the top again. He blanked the man and continued home. The road followed beside a river, and Abel stopped and sat down to roll another cigarette. As he had finished rolling, his eyes scanned across the river. It was a quiet night, and nothing was disturbed. The water flowed slowly and calmly, the tree opposite him swayed gently as a small breeze brushed beside it. It was almost picturesque Abel thought to himself, as he picked up his bag and left. His feet were getting heavy, and a different song blasted into his ears.
Only… Out... Suicide… End it….
“I’m on a highway to hell” Abel sang to himself. As he had finished the last lyric, a spot dropped onto his forehead. He looked up and saw the raindrops falling slowly onto him. If he stayed outside much longer, he would be drenched. By the time he had decided to light his cigarette, it was completely wet, he chucked it into the bushes and continued the long and windy road. As he approached some traffic lights, he saw him again. It was the man in a top hat. Abel walked near him and turned down his music. He looked straight at his face and was horrified at what he saw. The man seemed old, ancient. He looked as if he had been in a fire, his whole face was burnt. But what troubled Abel the most was his eyes. The black pits that gazed back at Abel stared into his soul, devouring him from the inside. The man grinned at Abel and walked away quickly. Abel shook his head, not believing what he saw. “I really need my medication” Abel muttered to himself as he dragged his legs home. The rain was getting heavy, and Abel rushed home. He entered his building and took off his jacket. He was soaked.
Abel was in his room, alone. He turned on his computer, ready to sit down and listen to some music. A voice echoed in his mind.
You’ve lost everything, all of your friends hate you. What is the point in living anymore? It can all be over in a couple of minutes, it won’t cause you any pain at all.
Abel had had enough. Maybe the whispers were right.
He sat down in front of his computer, and stared into the bright screens. He could vaguely see his reflection laughing back at him.
Crazy? You think you’re crazy? You know that’s true. You know to get better you need your medication. Go on, take the pills in front of you. Don’t forget, you’ve been crazy for a while now, take the right amount. Take them all…
Abel slowly opened the box of pills and put them one by one on his desk, mixing them with all the other pills already laying there.
First one, down the hatch…
One by one, he took them. His fingers trembling over his glass. How many had he taken? How many more did he need to take?
All of them. Don’t miss out a single one, you haven’t taken any since the start. At least thirty will help you…
He wasn’t sure. What if everything turned out alright? What if he talked to people and got proper help? Even with help, would it make any difference? Tears welled in his eyes as he sighed. Was this to be the end?
Do it!
Would all his hard work lead up to this? No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He would get help. He would talk to his friends about it, they could help him. They could make everything better, he knew it. He had found his courage, even if it was deep down inside him. He grasped at it with both hands and pulled it through the layers of depression, of negative thoughts, up to the surface, where it would be useful.
Don’t back out now, you’re so close to total bliss…
He blinked, and poured the pills into his glass of vodka. He downed it without hesitation. Abel’s head fell back with his eyes wide open and his mouth hanging. He slurred forward and fell off his chair, his mouth began frothing and his eyes began blinking rapidly, burning. Voices were screaming, telling him to stop, to give them another chance, to not let his demons take control of him, to find any last bit of courage to ask for proper help and take it.
He could just distinguish the shape of a top hat on his desk as his eyes blinked furiously. The music echoed around the room.
“I'm standing up, I'm a face my demons
I'm manning up, I'm a hold my ground
I've had enough, now I'm so fed up
Time to put my life back together right now”
But the demons had already taken contr...
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