A bad trip

I’ve done so much today. I’ve tried new things, and had a great time. But then, right at the best moment, I fucked it all up. I knew I would. I now have nothing left to live for. I’ve had bad times, but this is the fucking pits. It doesn’t matter though. I’ll be dead soon. Soon I’ll be asleep. At rest.
I suppose the best place to start things off would be the start. When I woke up. I woke up because my phone was ringing. I stumbled across the vast expanse of the floor to the other side of the room.
“Hello?”
“Heya…”
Karen. Karen Starkey. I used to like her, but now we’re friends. Just friends. She was one of those girls that you make friends with because you fancy them, because they’re pretty. After a few weeks, you figure out you don’t have a chance with her; your feelings are not reciprocated. You get used to the idea that she’s just a friend, and she sees you as a protector, someone to keep bad men away from her, someone to walk her home, someone for her to bitch to about her problems. You’re such a good listener. She gets a boyfriend, you pray it won’t last. She stays with him for a long time, and every time they have an argument and she calls you up, you’re on her side. You pick holes in him for her. You try to compete with her man, even though you know she doesn‘t feel the same as you, and you will never have her like he does. You begin to lose interest in her, you realise it won’t ever happen. You’ll never kiss her, save a peck on the cheek or on the lips when you’re drunk. You’ll never hold her all night long. You’ll never fuck her all night long. It breaks your heart, but you get over it, and find other people, but you always think about her. They’re never quite the same as her. Slowly, you go off her, and actually begin to think of her as a friend, not a friend you want more from. So, by the time he’s left her and she’s dampening your shoulder with her tears, she’s just a friend. We’re just friends. Me and Karen. Karen Starkey.
“Hey!”
“Ummm, hi, how are you?”
“Just woken up. You woke me up.”
“Sorry honey!”
“Ummm yeah. What do you want?”
“Well I’ve got something for you…”
I made all the visual signs of being interested, and for a few seconds, I didn’t realise she was waiting for me to say, “Go on…”
“ I got some nice new stuff. Experimental. Some of that tailor made stuff, from a good friend. Wanna try some with me?”
“When?”
“Today! Are you busy?”
Of course I’m busy today. Today is Monday. I have work today. I don’t really enjoy work and I usually will take most excuses to get myself out of a day of work. I work at a crisp factory, would you believe? I’m one of the monkeys, I stand near a conveyer belt that comes out of the machine that makes them, and I look for ones that are too big, too black, too green or generally inedible specimens. I find ‘em, and I chuck ‘em. This, apart from being the most boring job I’ve ever had, is quite disgusting. the machine stinks, and standing in the same room as it all day makes you smell awful. Imagine a cross between a strong, eggy, sulphuric smell and engine oil, and that’s how I smell after a day at the office. It’s depressing when you’re picking bits of fat and potato out of your clothes and hair when you get home. It’s depressing when you see your co-workers coughing and sneezing all over the conveyor belt, and it’s depressing when you see your little cousin eating a bag of the crisps made in your factory, to then have pneumonia for 2 weeks. So basically, Karen was offering me the choice between work and drugs. There was no contest.
“I’m never busy if it’s you.”
“Great! When do you wanna come over?”
I’m still in yesterday’s boxers, absent-mindedly playing with myself. I need a shave. My mouth tastes like stale pizza. My bladder is at full capacity. I’m starving, and I could fucking murder a cup of coffee. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.
“Uh… later?”
“Okay then. Text me. Seeya!”
“Later.”
I didn’t like my tone in that call. I sounded really pissed off that she’d called, which I wasn’t. It sounded like that partly because I’d just woken up, but mainly because I’m a bit cautious about new things. I like them, just as much as the next guy, but I’ve had some interesting and varied experiences with new things. When I was 4, my mum and dad had a new child. I was excited about it at first, I wanted a brother to play football with. But, as soon as she was born, my sister was a focus of hatred on my part. For a start, she was a girl, so I couldn’t do boys stuff with her, but the main thing that got to me was that she got all the attention from my parents and family. All of a sudden, I wasn’t cute. I wasn’t the baby. No one gave me any notice. I felt so starved. As she grew up, she grew stronger and stronger. By the time she was 6, she could push me over; she could bruise me. I was such a weedy kid after that, I never stood up to anyone. When it’s been drilled into your head since your first few years that you’re second best, you don’t really see the point in trying any better than that. I don’t blame anyone but myself. I love my sister, and she loves me, but she is why I am so content with my mindless job, grubby, sparse flat and small life prospects. I don’t want to do any better. I don’t want to progress, I don’t want uni, I don’t want 50 grand a year, I just want to get by. It drives my mum crazy. But I don’t mind. She’ll never have to pay for driving lessons or weddings, so she should be grateful.
I found some jeans, smelled them and decided that they were ok to wear today, and slipped them on. I fished a grey-green t-shirt from the small pile of dirty clothes and put it on. I didn’t even put any deodorant on. 2 minutes, and I’m ready.
I spent the day idly toying with the soggy assortment of cereals I had in my flat, drinking coffee and thinking about things. I like doing that, even when it’s about really trivial stuff, you can get into it so much you forget yourself. You find yourself smiling at the smallest things, being interested in the mundane or just plain boring everyday events, all sorts. It helps pass the time when you’re too poor for a computer or a stereo, even a TV. At least the radio’s free, eh?
It got to about 3.30pm when I thought I’d get up and go. It was early summer, so I just walked out in my shirt and jeans. All I brought with me was the right money for the hit and my house key. I like travelling light. My hair was greasy, my clothes smelled like fatty chips, I had a day’s stubble, but I’ve never felt happier. Most people like to progress, but I like the rut of my life. I like the fag ash on my floor, the burnt out candles on my table. I like all my old bank statements under my bed. I like the stale carpet smell. Because it’s mine, it’s all I’ve got. It’s my castle. I don’t understand people’s obsession to clear away any clutter. I see these homes that are immaculate, cleaned and polished and so clear that you can see your face in the veneer. Shiny floors, chrome metal ovens, and glass coffee tables. There’s not even a magazine anywhere, or a stray coffee mug. So unnatural, so unlived. Feels like, if you touched anything, the whole room would topple, like a pack of cards. I think people who have houses that clean have certain issues. I mean, if you really need to spend your time doing something like that there has to be something wrong going on. You don’t want to admit that you have the same cupboards as all the other people who bought them off the production line, but you know you do. Does it really matter about a bit of dust? A speck of dirt? Coffee rings? Cigarette burns? Do you really need to spend so much time and effort scrubbing away all that stuff? Do you think a house is inviting if it is immaculately clean? All it says to me, when I see perfect busty sofas, newly vacuumed carpets, (so recently vacuumed that you can smell it) and sparkling, clean utensils is that this person is bored. They are bored of everything, so they convert their energy into something that is never ending, everlasting, much like their boredom, and clean their houses for the rest of their life. Well not me. I have hot rock burns on my shirts. I have ketchup stains on my jeans. I have a soul.
The walk to Karen’s isn’t that long, about maybe 20 minutes through some residential streets, but it’s nice and pleasant, especially in summer. It was a nice day today, it really was. The birds were singing, and had only been doing so properly for a few days. Cars went past with the windows down, music blaring. Lush green leaves grew from the trees and shrubs lining the gardens and spilled out onto the pavements. the sun was bright, but not blindingly so. It warmed me, and the gentle breeze made sure I didn’t break a sweat. It really was a nice day today. I wanted the walk to Karen’s to last forever. It was so beautiful. It seemed such a shame to be inside today, when the world was so alive.
Before I knew it, I’d thought the entire journey to Karen’s and just walked it on autopilot. The door was open as usual, so I just walked in. I found my way instinctively into Karen’s living room. There were a few people there, sitting around on the sofas and chairs dotted around the room, and I could smell weed. It was so obvious what they were doing! I got a few nods as I walked in, but I didn’t really know anyone there anyway.
I sat down on the big green sofa, (that’s the best one by the way) next to some guy in a faded t-shirt. I think it was some kind of skate brand, I dunno. It took him a few seconds to notice I was actually there, and he took his time in looking over at me with his pinhole-pink pupils. His mouth fluttered open for one or two seconds, then stopped, then he began again with “Alright, mate?”
“Yeah man. Beautiful day, innit?”
The man smiled and nodded, a spliff halfway to his mouth. “Yeeeaaah! It’s nice.”
“What you been upto recently?” I said this as if I actually knew him, which I didn’t.
“Oh man, I fuckin’ got kicked off the dole ‘cos they didn’t believe me about job searchin’. I tell yer, they’re fuckin’ bastards for that. I told ‘em, I said, I told ‘em, I said that I can’t be expected to live off just dealin’, can I? I told ‘em that’s just silly, innit mate, innit. I need a bit extra juss to tide me over when times be hard yanno?”
I nodded slowly. I secretly smiled at him feebly trying to be Jamaican. All the best stoners do, after all. He didn’t need any prompting to go on with his story, “So I fuckin’… came here to forget about that. Fuckin’ system fucks us all over, man…”
Here we go. The old, “Fuck the system” cliché he’s going for here.
“My old man, worked every day of his life, didn’t get fuck all. Fuckin’ Tony Blair mate, he’s laughin’ mate. He’s up there with all his mates in fuckin’ parlerment laughin’ his fuckin’ arse off at us, ‘avin’ to work all day, just to put food on the table. It’s not fair mate. Fuckin… We should all be equals mate. We should all be servin‘ each other. I wouldn‘t mind wipin‘ tony Blair‘s arse as long as he wiped mine every now and then, know what I‘m sayin!” he poked me and laughed, and then sat back again.
The interesting thing is, though this guy obviously knows very little, and has something of a small mind, he has a point. The poor are poor for the sake of the rich being rich. The common man is worked far too hard to make life easy for the rich man. We all know that, and I believe in that as much as any other normal guy, but Jesus Christ, if I never hear this fucking equality speech again, it’s a day too soon! I like doing drugs, but I hate the mentality of certain others who do it with me.
“What’s yer name, mate?”
He was sitting up again. What the hell, I’ll be as stoned as him in half an hour.
“Jonah. How about you?”
“Names fuckin’ Greg, mate.”
He held out his hand so I could clasp it. I obliged, and had the feeling I’d be seeing a lot of him in the next few hours. Suddenly, I remembered why I’d came here in the first place.
“where’s Karen?” I asked.
“Karen?” asked Greg, in a way that suggested that he didn’t know who I was talking about. He thought for a second, then his eyes widened with the delight of realising who I was talking about.
“Oh! Karen. Yeah, she’s uh…”
“She’s right here.”
Karen walked towards to me and ruffled up my hair. She smiled at me, gave me a little wink, and then turned to Greg.
“Dude! You know what my favourite food is?” she said, excitedly, condescendingly. I could see what she was doing. Greg couldn’t, and thought for a bit about this question, then replied.
“Umm pizza?” Greg asked hopefully.
“That’s right!”
Karen said this in such a patronising tone. The thing is, when you’re stoned, that’s how you want to be talked to. You don’t want people harshing you while you’re high on something. She sounded like she was talking a child into going to bed early. It’s a joy to watch, really, it is. She was working him. You could see the cogs turning in his head, he was thinking so slowly. Greg started to rub his belly.
“Mmm… You know what guys?” He said, to the group sat around him. He got no response.
“Hey, John!” he shouted. One of the others looked up. “John, I’m gonna get a fuckin’… pizza cos’ I’m starvin’, I got proper bad munchies, man!”
John liked the idea and smiled. “can I come with you?” He asked.
“Sure! Come on guys, I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”
Greg, John, and the other members of their little stoned posse stumbled out of the house, and hissed like vampires at the sunlight greeting their bloodshot pinkeyes. Karen quickly followed them and locked the door.
“Right then! We’re finally on our own.” She said. She walked back into the room.
“What’s wrong with those dudes?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing! I just think we should do this on our own, you know? It’s your first time too, I need to pop your cherry without strangers about, don’t I?”
I nodded. She carried on, in a lower tone, “Plus… those guys are a bit weird. I only let them in here ’cos I can charge them like, double price just ‘cos I flutter my eyelashes at them. I don’t like to give them too much time in my place. I have all the time in the world for you though, sweetie!”
I like this attitude Karen has. She’s all smiles and rainbows to everyone, but she can somehow manipulate people she doesn’t like, and still seem like the nicest girl in the world. Maybe that’s ‘cos she only manipulates people that deserve it.
Karen walked over to a chest of drawers on the other side of the room, and got a little wooden box out. She opened it up, and I could see the tops of several plastic bags poking out. She rummaged around in the box and started to talk, “I tell you what, Joe. This little box here is a drug fiend’s paradise! You could get high for years off of all this shit. Shame I won’t taste half of it, eh? I got all sorts of shit in here, but I’ve been saving this up for someone special.”
She fished out a little bag with some white pills in, and walked over to me, and sat down on the sofa next to me.
“Now then. This,” She held up the bag, “Is Mesca.”
I have never heard of Mesca. All I know is, I’m definitely up for it. Karen carried on.
“this is new stuff. Experimental. A friend of mine in pharmaceuticals made this up for me. It’s like Ecstasy, in the way that it makes your really happy and empathetic. I had some last night, and it’s really fun. Feels like you’re in love with like… everything.”
Sounds good to me.
“Sure!” I said. I wasn’t too sure about this. I’ve seen embarrassing things come up because of these sorts of drugs. I made a promise to myself, to definitely NOT tell her how I feel about her while we’re doing this, ’cos I know I’ll regret it in the morning. She took two pills out of the bag, and handed one to me. She swallowed hers without water. It’s second nature to her, she does it all the time, but seems to be able to keep on top of it. I tried to follow suit, but it got stuck in my throat, and I nearly choked on it. After a bit of negotiation, it went down the right way. I managed to keep this desperate internal struggle to stay cool a secret from Karen, as she was busying herself making some tea. I sat and waited on the couch, and looked around. Karen’s house was really cool. She inherited it from some distant second cousin or something when she was about 13. She didn’t even know this woman existed, but for some reason, she wanted Karen to have the house. Once she hit 18, she was allowed to use the house as her own. She doesn’t have to pay rent or a mortgage, and as she has no kids, and deals in just about all the popular narcotics, she doesn‘t need to work. It’s a really sweet deal. I looked around at all the cool stuff in the room, at the stack of CDs, there must be hundreds in there! Everything from Bob Marley to Bauhaus. She has all these like, psychedelic posters in there, those ones that trick your eyes so they look like they’re moving. I’ve stared at those things for hours on end before. Maybe it’s because I’ve known her for so long, but her house is so warm and inviting, it’s like a second home. I always feel so relaxed in her front room.
She came through with two mugs of tea, and sat herself down next to me. I took mine, it was too hot to drink or even hold, so I put it on the floor. She went over to her TV and turned it on. She put a DVD in her player.
“For the next sort of… half hour or so, we aren’t gonna feel anything. Remember to keep that in mind, okay? Don’t get disheartened if you don’t get any effects for a while, because they will be coming. Don’t try and force it to happen, because then you’ll be conscious of yourself and nothing will happen. Just sort of… let it happen if you get me.” She’s so knowledgeable about this kind of thing. I wouldn’t doubt her if she said she fucking invented this stuff herself. The DVD flicked on. The office. Brilliant. Karen continued, “And the best way to let it happen is to be distracted for a while with something like this!”
She came over to my sofa and sat next to me. Her leg touched mine. This is fucking great. I have a cup of tea, I’m watching The office, and the girl of my dreams is sitting right next to me. Oh man, I fancy her so much. I know nothing will happen though. It’s shit. But I like being with her, kind of like, to look over her, and make sure she’s okay. I really like it when we’re on our own together. I like to lose myself with thoughts of kissing her, holding her… don’t imagine fucking her! I watched her sat there, twirling her long blond hair in her perfect little fingers, her shiny, bright, hazel brown eyes eagerly watching the TV in front. I love everything about her, I love the faded dye in her hair, I love those pretty little rings on her fingers, each one totally different, I love the cute little bracelets she wears, I love her slightly grungy dress sense, everything. She can make no mistakes in my mind. Sometimes I burn to tell her how I feel, to have her the way I want, and sometimes I just like it the way it is, just friends.
We watched, mainly in silence, but a comfortable one, breaking the quiet only to laugh. I was slowly becoming aware of a warm, happy feeling inside me. It felt really nice, like when you’re with someone you really like and you’re up to no good, and you do something that makes you both giggle. It felt like the giddy feeling you get when that happens but, it wouldn’t go away! I just had to tell Karen.
“Hey… hey, Karen, Karen!” I grinned at her as she turned round. “How are you feeling?”
Karen thought for a second, then said, “I feel pretty good, actually. How about you?”
I didn’t really need to think about this.
“I feel awesome!” I grinned again.
Karen immediately smiled as she realised what I was getting at. She patted me on the cheek and said, “I’m gonna go make some more tea. You want some?”
“Yeah!” I shouted happily.
God, when she touched me just then, when she touched me, that felt really cool. Like her hands were slightly warmer, like they were a bit gentler. The touch felt more loving, more affectionate than usual.
Karen returned with more steaming tea for us both. I eagerly sipped at my mug as she sat down with wide pupils and looked at me. With the TV as a background soundtrack, we were ready. We were ready to spill all our secrets, from the shit we think about every day, to the vague philosophies that we operate on. I could feel my face flushing. Do I tell her? No. I’ll wait, till another time. She’s starting it all off anyway…
“you know… you know how you work in that crisp factory…” she began with a giddy smile.
“yeah?” I sighed. It’s so embarrassing to admit that sometimes.
“well I’ve always wondered. Do you get bored of crisps?”
I started laughing, mainly because it was such a random question, but also because I get it all the time. Karen carried on, with a smile. “‘cos I bet you get loads of free samples and shit like that. Like, I bet you get to try all the new flavours don’t you?”
I shook my head, still laughing.
“Oh. But do you? Do you get bored of crisps?”
I paused, for dramatic effect.
“Karen, my darling, not a day goes by when I don’t open my cupboards to get myself a bag of ready salted. Now, do you have any other random questions?”
“Yeah, I have a proper one.” She smiled, then looked up dreamily. She was really into this, I could tell. “Do you think you’ll ever get married, and like, have kids? Live in a big house and earn millions and billions of pounds a year? Be successful, have two cars, eat good food, drink nice wine, that sort of thing?”
I thought about this for a second. I’d never really thought about it in depth.
“Well… I’ve never thought about this that much. But I think I’d probably like to get married, sometime in the future though. I think whoever I marry would have to have the patience of a saint. I can’t be arsed to ever clean up after myself, and I’m not too good at cleaning myself full stop!” I laughed. It was so true.
“Yeah, but… I think you’re different. Like, I think you have a lot of inner beauty, like, you’re really sweet and cute. Yeah, you might be dirty and a little bit of a slob, but you’re really… nice. I think to the right girl, you‘d be perfect husband material.” I pretended to be shocked when she called me a slob, but to be honest, she’s right and I think of me in that way too.
“And what about kids? Do you want kids?” She asked again. I thought of babies. I thought of waking up in the middle of the night to feed them, I thought of milky sick down my back, I thought of frustrated afternoons trying to shut up my screaming child, I thought of paying for swimming lessons, piano lessons and karate lessons, I thought of paying for cars, university and Playstations. I thought of ageing from stress, being poorer than I already would be and having some responsibility. No I do not want some bloody kids.
“Maybe. Sometime in the future, when I’m a bit older, I think. How about you?”
She smiled; she was entertaining sentimental thoughts that made her happy.
“Yeah… definitely. A little girl called Jackie, and a little boy called Marcus. I wanna live in France, on the coast, and walk along the beach with them, and speak in French and English to them, and live in a dear little old cottage, with a nice bloke who has a nice job and can look after me properly.” She stopped because I was laughing. “What?!” she shouted, in a half jokey way.
“You can’t speak French!” I shouted, and laughed more and more as she started hitting me playfully. Soon our laughter took hold and we couldn’t do anything but quiver in a ball of mirth. We both sort of congealed in a heap on the sofa and sat in a happy silence, the DVD having come to an end. We stayed like this for a long time, both of us staring into space. We had a lot of contact with each other in the position we were in, and I enjoyed the warm feeling I was getting from her skin touching mine. I felt really connected to her, like we’d just got a little bit closer. I hoped that she felt the same. After a while in our warm and happy position, Karen started to sit up. She ended up sort of slumped, half sitting, half laying on the sofa. I was in a similar position. After a while, she spoke.
“Joe…” She said, thoughtfully. “Joe, have you ever loved anyone?” She looked at me in that concerned way that people do when they’ve just asked you a question that they’re sincerely interested in.
I thought about it for a few seconds.
“I love you.” I smiled. Truer words I have never spoken.
“Yeah, yeah, I know sweetie, and I love you too,” She grinned and laughed, her cheeks glowing rosily. She carried on, “…but I mean like… one of your girlfriends. Like, someone you’ve had a non-platonic relationship with. Or even someone you haven’t, someone you’ve wanted but never had.” she fell silent as she saw my expression get a little more serious. I was thinking of telling her, right here, right now. She broke my concentration by talking again.
“Joe… you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. I’m just interested.”
I shook my head in a slightly manic fashion, “Nah, that’s not it! You just brought up a lot of memories, that’s all. I was just sorting them out. And now you ask, I think there was one. Just one, mind.”
Karen sat up, cross-legged, holding her mug in both her hands.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Tell me about her.”
I sighed. I couldn’t really believe I was finally doing this. But here goes nothing.
“I’ve… known her for years, absolutely years. I met her on the local gig circuit, we’d both been to see the same band. Remember all those awful young bands? Those groups that played like, really obscure covers and couldn’t sing that well? Well, anyway, They were a bit bland, kind of “punk band X,” you know, the ones that have a song about “the system” and then one about some sort of eastern concept of not wanting possessions, and then they have the obligatory silly song about… piss or something,” I trailed off as we both laughed. It’s so easy to talk on this stuff, because you feel really open about everything, but at the same time, you end up laughing after every sentence. I carried on, “so needless to say, I was bored, but I’d paid a fiver to get in, and I’d be dammed if I wasn’t gonna get my money’s worth. So I started looking around for someone to talk to, some girl to chat up, anything! Then I saw her. I saw a pretty young girl with long blond hair and sexy brown eyes. I thought she looked alright, you know how some people do? You know how some people just draw you to them? Well anyway… so… so I went over to her, and we got on, as they say, like a house on fire. We talked for hours, but in a very buddyish way, not in the way that you’d talk to someone you’re trying to get with, if you understand me. We talked about so much together, ranging from what we like to eat, to what we wanna do when we’re older. We just whiled the night away, chatting. I soon forgot about the crappy band. Karen, this was before all the drugs, you know. I don’t think I was even drinking that night. That just made it all a bit clearer, more honest. We were spilling our guts to each other, we were having a good time, and we were completely sober. That’s why it was so significant. All my other mates I’ve met while I was off my tits on something or other. Why do I now need drugs to make me happy, Karen? I don’t understand. It used to be so easy. I used to go out and play football with my mates after school, until the sun went down and I had to go to bed. While I was doing that, nothing was wrong, I had no problems. My world was exclusively my house and the local park, throughout every summer of my childhood. It was like some hazy dream that you get after you’ve had too much. I was so happy, Karen… now the only time I feel happy is when I’m fucking plastered.” I stopped as I realised I’d gone a little bit off of course. I sighed. “I‘ve known her ever since, really.” I looked straight at Karen. She hadn’t cottoned on to what I was doing yet.
“So… why do you love her?” she asked, looking thoughtfully at me. I took a deep breath. Was I gonna tell her? Did I have the guts? Read on.
“She’s beautiful. I love her hair, and her cute little bracelets. I love going round to her house, because it’s always warm and inviting. She has the coolest music and posters and DVDs, and she has loads of wicked mates. Any time she’s out or at a party, she’s the life and soul, always starting off crazy shit, always turning the music up, always getting high, drunk, stoned, or just plain silly. She’s beautiful, so beautiful, not just in her face and her body, but like, in the way she moves, the way her clothes seem to flow round her features. Every touch she gives me, every little kiss, every stroke, rub, tap and poke I remember and cherish forever. I smell her near me when I’m alone, I dream she’s lying with me when I’m asleep, I dream we make love, I dream we run away to the country, I dream we have kids, I even dream we have pets together! It started out as us being just friends, just buddies, and I knew I’d never have her. I never got over her properly. every time I shagged a girl I was thinking of her, and every time she got a new boyfriend I prayed it’d not last. I’ve fully accepted the fact that she will never be mine. But I still feel that pain of loss whenever I see her, whenever she calls. I love her, and always will, and she doesn‘t even know.”
Karen said nothing. She had just sat there all the time I was talking, with her mouth hung open, taking it all in. she finally spoke.
“You never told me about her, Joe.”
“I never felt that it was the right time to. There was always something in the way. And besides, that’d change a lot of things…” I tailed off.
“Why would it?” She looked sympathetically into my eyes. I sighed.
“It just would.”
There was a beat while Karen found some words.
“I’ve never heard you say… anything like that, honey. I didn’t know you were living with this. And I didn’t know how poetic you could be! That was really sweet of you. I think whoever this girl is would like a guy that loved her as much as you do. I know I would.” She didn’t realise how significant what she was saying to me actually was. I had to carry on.
“I wish I could tell her. I just think… well shit, I know that if I did, everything would change, forever. Nothing would be the same between us. It’s why I’ve never told her. But I want to, I so dearly want to. I just wanna hold her in my arms and protect her from all the shit she gets. She deserves the best she can get.”
There was a long pause as Cora and I sat in contemplation. I started to wonder whether she had realised who I was talking about. It seemed like an age, like forever before I spoke again. But it must’ve only been about 2 minutes.
“So… how about you?” I asked.
Karen rested her chin in her hand and looked into space. She was thinking.
“There’s never been… there’s never been one guy that’s really seemed to me like he’s worth loving. I’ve had a few boyfriends I got a bit serious with, but I don’t think I ever loved any of them. I just haven’t found the right guy yet. They all seem to just want to fuck me, which sucks, ‘cos I want more than that. Yeah, sex is important to me, but so’s everything else. I like an intellectual pillow talk as well as a good shag.” she started giggling at what she just said, and I joined in. it’s so easy to laugh, to find things funny when you’re with a dear friend, when you’re watching something funny, and when you’re on drugs. I sighed heavily.
“Do you regret not trying anything with her?” Karen asked.
“Sometimes. Most of the time, I’m just glad to have her as a friend, because she’s a good friend to me. I don’t see her all that much nowadays. She’s just so understanding and a good shoulder to cry on.”
Karen then asked a question I knew was imminent from the start of this conversation.
“What’s her name?”
I felt butterflies. Big, huge butterflies in my stomach, more than I ever had before. I thought about all the good times we’ve spent together, all the stuff we’ve done together. Would telling her right now spoil it? Would she shun me? She doesn’t seem to be like that kind of person, but she might be! What if she feels the same? What if she doesn’t feel the same? All I knew at that point is that mine and Karen’s relationship would never be the same after I had said this one word.
“…Karen…Karen Starkey”
She gasped, and looked surprised, and there was a moment where she paused and I thought she didn’t feel the same, but then she embraced me and held me really tightly. I heard her breathing had become heavy and she had gotten warm in her face. We stayed in that position for a long time. She pulled back eventually, and I saw that she had tears in her eyes. She looked at me happily, then with a smile, held my face as she kissed me lightly, then firmly, on the lips. It felt amazing, better than any kiss I’d ever had before, it was electric. We sat in silence, still holding each other, staring into her eyes, into my eyes.
“You know…” she started, “You know… I’ve wanted you to admit that for years. I’ve always suspected it in you. I’ve always thought you were thinking like that. And if I’m being honest, I didn’t feel it back at first. I thought you were a good friend, but thought nothing more. But increasingly, and a lot more in the last few months, I’ve felt something more. Every time I was dumped, I thought of me and you, if it could work. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but I’ve never had the courage to ask it of you, because of what might happen. I thought today was perfect, I thought today was the best opportunity I’ve ever had to tell you how I feel. But you beat me to it!” she laughed and drew my head towards her, and met it with hers.
We sat in silence, staring at each other, our new tolerance level being pushed more and more by the second as time passed in slow motion with no communication but the look in our eyes. Her eyes were nervous and excited, and so were mine. I saw her reflected in me.
“what happens now?” I asked, after a short silence.
Karen smiled, and then with seductive eyes held my hand and stood up. She had a mischievous little smile that only meant one thing, and with that she started walking towards her bedroom. I followed, still holding her hand, still not quite believing what had just happened. It had happened so quickly, one minute I was just her friend, then the next we’re going into her room, our eyes alight with the delight of young love and chemical persuasion.
Her room smelled really nice, it had that smell that all girl’s bedrooms have, that mix of hairspray and perfume. I could also smell a sweet incense. The room was small, with the majority of it taken up by a double bed. She had pictures of her friends on the walls, and I was happy to see she had some of me. The light was dim, due to her curtains being drawn. It was timeless, and I felt very happy and comfortable as soon as I stepped into the room.
Karen closed the door behind us, and we instantly started passionately kissing and disrobing each other. It felt so good to finally do what I’d wanted to do for years. In our lust, we forgot everything else about each other and ourselves, and we gave up to one another. There was nothing in this world but us two and this room. We had lost control, and it felt wonderful. I couldn’t take her clothes off quickly enough! There was no concerns or responsibility. Just me, Karen, and all the time in the world.
Before I knew it, we were lying on the bed, completely naked. I moved my hands all over her body, caressing every inch of her skin. Her body was better than I had ever imagined, everything was just right. Our mouths were locked in a kiss, it felt so close. I could smell her, not her perfume, but I could smell her. this was different from the other girls I’d been with. With the others, I had always felt aware of myself, I had always worried about pleasing them, about how I should touch them, whether I was pushing them too hard, whether I was gonna come before they did, but with Karen, it was different. With Karen, I knew we’d both feel good, we’d both be happy with whatever turns out. Because we were in love. We are in love. This wasn’t like all the other times, all those times when I would have sex with a girl because she was there, because she was pretty, because I knew she’d put out, because it was something to do apart from take drugs. I was making love to Karen because I loved her. I hope she felt the same.
I entered her, and she let out a heavy sigh. It felt like nothing else to be inside her, to feel her hold me tighter and tighter, to feel her pushing against me, to feel her body against mine. She was so beautiful as she lay below me, totally unashamed, naked, vulnerable, mine, mine, all mine. For the first time in years, everything was fine, and nothing was wrong. For one moment, the world stood still and waited for us, the sun and stars stopped moving across the sky, the birds stopped singing and we were one, connected, a single, direct line of love and understanding between mine and Karen’s mind. As I moved inside her, I could feel her starting to move with me, and we moved together in rhythm, locked together in a peace and love I have never felt before. We were in slow motion, with the sound blurring and muddying our vision, turning our perceptions into one, one intrinsic satisfaction of togetherness. That moment lasted forever, and I wish I was still in it.
She started breathing really heavily, and she squeezed me and closed her eyes, and let out a heavy gasp as I came to a climax, a wonderful, long climax as I came inside her. I rolled over to lay on my back next to her.
“That was… something I’ve needed to do for a long time, Karen.” I said. She didn’t reply. “Karen?” I asked, and looked over to her. She was lying very still. Was she asleep? I shook her lightly on the arm. “Hey!” I said, half out of anger, half out of concern. No reply. I started to get a little scared. Then I noticed something. She wasn’t breathing. I checked her pulse. Nothing. She‘s dead. But how? I didn’t do anything! I racked my brain for anything that I could have done. Then I remembered. We’d just taken Mesca. It was an experimental drug, so we shouldn’t ought to have done something like that. Strenuous exercise can have adverse affects with these kinds of drugs. The heart and respiratory system is put under great, often unprecedented strain when taking experimental drugs for the first time. In other words, she had had a heart attack. In other words, I had fucked her to death.
I freaked out, jumped up from the bed, rushed to her door, and tried to open it. when I remembered she had locked it, I Bashed against it for a while and then I fell to the floor crying and sobbing loudly. I had just had it, I had just had a glimpse of my life as I wanted it. I had just had the girl I wanted all my life for about half an hour, and then I’d killed her. I sat and cried for what felt like hours. I was now in a world of despair and sadness. How could I bring myself to tell everyone? Her friends, my friends, her parents? I couldn’t cope, and maybe I wasn’t thinking rationally, but there’s no turning back now. Maybe if I hadn’t taken that cursed fucking pill, Karen would still be alive. Maybe if I hadn’t taken that wretched pill, I wouldn’t have done what I did next. I looked up, and I noticed something that could help me. The only thing that could help me. Karen had left her box of drugs out on the floor. There was so much stuff in there for me to choose from, and a lot of it would come in useful.

So this is it, this is my death. I hope you liked the story, it’s not often you get a story with a suicide note is it? I just knocked back a load of shit, fuck knows what or how much. If that doesn’t work, I’m just gonna take what I can from here until I pass out, or better yet, die. Because I don’t have anything to live for anymore. If anyone cares, I really do feel sorry for what I’ve done. But I can’t live life without her, so I’m taking the easy way out, like I have done all of my life. I’m taking the soft option, like I did with my jobs, my flat, my life. The only thing I was prepared to work for, to live for was Karen, and now she’s dead, and what’s more, I’ve killed her. I fucked up, like I always do. I don’t see the point in saying goodbye to anyone. No-one ever believed in me. If anyone cares, there’s about 50 quid in my bank account, and even less in my savings. I want it all donated to charity. All the rest of my stuff, you can let it burn. I don’t care anymore, the only person I care about is lying dead in the next room. The last thing I will say is this: I took a chance. I told her how I feel. I put a lot on the line, and it paid off. For a few minutes at least, I had what I wanted. All from taking that chance, from getting over my self-protective loop of white lies and respiration. I would rather have half an hour of happiness than a lifetime of misery. Oh, these pills are making me shiver. I feel very cold now. They are kicking in. there is no turning back.