I was already high as fuck, but I wanted more. I wanted to be numb, totally numb, like he was. If Kyle could stop feeling things, so could I.
The second I got back to Matthew’s apartment, I went straight to the bathroom to shoot up again.
“How did it go?” Matthew asked, following me, watching as I fumbled about with my gear. My hands felt sort of disconnected from me, so it was hard to hold onto the spoon and get my hit ready.
"He's going the same way Damien was."
"What d'you mean?" I guess he didn’t know about Damien’s extensive history of self destructive habits, then.
"Damien was a total wreck, and now Kyle is. I had enough of that shit from Damien, I'm can't deal with it from him too."
"Well, I'm sure he'll get better soon. He's been through a lot lately."
"He's cutting his arm to bits. That's not getting better, that's one step away from a suicide attempt," I told him, making him frown. “Don't accuse me of being a pessimist,” I said before he could cut in with any talk of me being negative. “Just ask Damien how many times he tried to kill himself before he got put in jail."
"I'm not accusing you of anything, Rayn. That just doesn't sound like my son,” he said kind of thoughtfully. What and you thought he would end up being a porn star instead? I shrugged, drawing my spoon of heroin up into a syringe and fitting the needle on the end. A few moments later, it was in and I leant back on the bathtub, glancing up at Matthew frowning again.
I couldn’t breathe properly. It was like my lungs didn’t want the air in them. I kind of felt like I was melting into the floor. Everything felt so distant. Something was wrong, but I was so wonderfully numb.
I remembered being dragged into an ambulance and someone forcing a tube down my throat. I tried to cough it out, but my body wasn’t behaving and it stayed put. And after that? Nothing.
I was having this really weird dream. It was just noise. Darkness and noise. Sometimes there were these white flashes of light that broke through the darkness, but they never stayed long. The noises just stayed constant, kinda like the sound of a cricket outside your window that won’t go away.
I think they were beeping noises. The sounds of voices somewhere in the distance.
The voices suddenly all got kinda close to me, and I could feel that fucking tube still in my throat. I felt a bodiless hand pull my jaw down and the tube was suddenly gone. I opened my eyes, greeted by a bunch of strange faces all staring down at me. Well this is a fucking weird dream. I tried to ask where I was and what was going on when a cup of water with a straw in it was held in front of me by one of the strangers.
I took a bit of the water to stop my throat from feeling so dry and tried again asking what was happening. I didn’t sound like me at all. I was all croaky and weird.
"You're in hospital," a familiar voice said. I looked over at Kyle sitting in a chair nearby. Hospital? What the...?
"You've been in a coma." I didn’t understand. How could I be in hospital? Nothing had happened to me. I was really fucking confused and Kyle’s silence was hardly helping. I tried to sit up, but I could hardly even move. I looked down at my hand, and kinda wished I hadn’t. It looked like someone had stretched a bit of translucent skin over some bones and painted on a few veins. Needless to say I was even more confused than I already was by that. I mean, I know I’ve always been kinda skinny, but I’ve never looked that bad..."You've been in a coma for months," Kyle said quietly.
"How can I have been in a coma for months? I just got back from the park," I almost laughed.
"No you didn't. You got home from the park, overdosed and you've been in here ever since," if I wasn’t finding this all so hilarious, I probably would’ve been concerned by Kyle’s totally blank expression. This was all some kind of elaborate joke, right?
I sort of frowned, though, the look on the doctor’s face beginning to make me think otherwise. Why was there a doctor still hanging around anyway? "I think I'd know whether or not I'd just gotten back from the park or not." Kyle got his phone out and showed me the date on the calendar. Just over two months had passed, according to that. I hesitated. “Anyone can change the date on their phone." Kyle got the doctor and a couple of nurses to back him up on what the date was and I sort of had to give in at that point.
I didn’t know what to think. I felt like a lost kid. Y’remember how it felt being lost in a supermarket because your mom or dad had walked off too fast and you didn’t see which way they went? And how all you wanted was someone to show you where they were and a hug? I wanted to be told what I should do, and get a hug. But Kyle didn’t seem to notice. I watched him, hoping he’d maybe pick up on that, but he just looked at me.
"What's happened since I...? Have you stopped hurting yourself?" I asked, dreading the answer. He shook his head. “What about... everything else?" Another head shake. I might as well have not woken up at all. Months may have gone by, but nothing has changed, as far as I can tell. “Oh.” Neither of us knew what to say.
So I just stared at my hands. I didn’t want to know how the rest of me looked. "I look disgusting."
"No you don't," Kyle told me.
I forced myself to lift up my arm so I could show him the back of my hand in all its bony, veiny glory. "That's not disgusting to you?"
"You're always gorgeous to me,” he said with this tiny little smile.