Cautious Love

I unlocked the door, and I stepped back out, seeing the needle. One night of fun.. officials wont be here for two days. I took a drink, and winced at the bitter burning. "Here." I said, tossing it to him.

I took the body and took a swig, loving the familiar burn in my throat. I winced as I injected the drug into my veins, and I began to feel fucked up, dizzy. I was chill, almost like I could pass out.

I had him sit down, and I chuckled at his reaction, how loony he looked. I was buzzed, and I felt numb. I liked this. I rolled up a couple joints and I handed him one. Theaw are the last of my stash. I lit his and then mine.

"Damn is this dro? How did you get such good shit? I only manage to get reggie most of the time." I said, taking a hit. Wow. I'm going to be FUCKED UP.

I giggled and I looked down at it. "I only getthe good shit. Haha..." I said, half.my joint almost gone..

I finished my blunt, then I shot up one more time. I put the syringe away and put a towel to my bleeding arm, closing my eyes.

I was knocked out.. blacked out. and stoned beyond belief. I was Completely numb, all over. It felt good

I woke up the NEXT NIGHT. I felt like shit. I got up and went to the shower, taking a nice long one.

I was sitting on my bed reading. I didnt look like someone who had an addiction.. I was determined now to really quit and then turn my life around..

When the officials came in, they managed to find EVERYTHING! By that next week, I was shaking and puking over withdrawals. It sucks! I need my shit!

http://khicho.com/wp-content/uploads...oo-girls08.jpg

I sat there and watched him get up and puke. Again. I felt bad.. withdrawl is something ive already gone through a few days ago. But once you get through it, you slowly recover and start to get over it.

I laid in bed, unable to sleep. I was getting so desperate. I scratched at my arms and though my bruises were gone, I bet I still looked like shit.

I was still quite nervous to get to know this guy, everyone I ever knew has either disowned me, died, or just was done with me.. "Here.." I said, standing, and I handed him Gatorade. "Believe it or not, it really helps.."

"Thanks." I mumbled and I took a few drinks. The vomit subsided but I still couldn't sleep at night. I just stared up at the sky.

I knew he was still awake. We were only a few feet apart, our beds anyways. "We ever going to have a real conversation? Or be awkward roomates together forever." I said, bluntly. Pun intended.

(Gah, im obsessing over that picture. The tattoos, I love them. Defiantly getting sleeve when im older.

I glanced at her through the darkness. "Hi, I'm Justin." I mumbled, taking another drink of Gatorade. "Better?"

I sighed. Smartass. I rolled over, and covered myself, and tried to fall asleep. He knew my name and I already knew his. This sure would be a blast..

I got maybe an hour of sleep last night, then the officials woke us up for group counseling. Oh fun. Sooo excited.

I hated when they woke us up, especially.. I sat up in my bed, praying that I didnt look like shit.. I ran my fingers through my hair quickly and I sat there and listened about the topic the group would be talking about today. The past. Fucking great. I stood and rook a quick shower and got ready in simple clothes, a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and black jeans. And converse.. I looked in my mirror at my tattoos, and smiled slightly.. the only good things in my life.

I took a shower as well and I sat in the circle and listened to everyone. When it was my turn, I sighed. "My name's Justin French, I'm 19 and I'm addicted to heroine, alcohol, and weed. And I'm not going to tell my feelings to a bunch of strangers." "Why were you so beat up?" Someone asked. "That's my business."

I told everyone my story, as crazy as it was. About how my parents were shot down in front of me, and how ever since I wasnt the same. It felt good to tell people that...

As I listened to Elsa tell her story, I wished that my parents got shot. After counseling, I shrugged off the hugs and went back to my room.

I watched as Justin shrugged off the hugs and disapeared. He was completely shutting people out, he had no chance in recovery if he kept this up.. I was already starting to feel better, about quitting. But I wanted to help him, but seeing the way he pushes everyone away, it could be a challenge.. I headed back tothe room also. "You know you have no chance if you keep this 'fuck everyone' attitude up.."

"Bad things happen to people who are quick to open up. You gotta gain my trust first." I said, taking my shirt off and laying down.

I sighed, and looked down. Everyone here wanted the same thing, to get better.. "True." I said quietly. I looked up at him and I watched as he laid down.

I sighed and glanced over at her as I scratched my arms. "So, are you a tattoo artist? Or do you just like getting tattoos?"

---------- Post added at 06:34 PM ---------- Previous post was at 06:26 PM ----------

http://www.filmjackets.com/FILM_JACK..._Tyler-003.jpg

"Well.. both." I said. "All of these tattoos I drew out, and some I did on myself, others I had my friend do." I said, looking down at them. The only good things in my life.

"Cool. I have a weed plant tattooed on my ass." I said with a chuckle, looking up at the ceiling.

I looked at him and laughed. "Thats.. amazing, dude." I said, surpised, and a hint of sarcasm laced in my voice. "The officials are coming later." I said, and I looked down at my lap.

I shrugged. "I'm not hiding anything right now. But my friend is gonna smuggle me weed when he visits. I can quit heroine and alcohol but I won't stop smoking pot. Weed isn't an harmful drug. You can get lung cancer, yes. But come on, doctors use it. And it helps me eat and sleep. I'm not going to accept it as being bad just because society says it is."

((My moms a pothead, so I know a lot about weed. XD))