Damien: the appeal of pointing a gun in someone's faceMature

I did what any strung out junkie would do when he's landed with a large amount of crack to somehow get rid of. I decided that I'd sell some, and fucking take the rest myself. I'm not thinking about how I'm going to get away with it right now. I'm too high to really give a flying fuck, to be honest. I'm running around the apartment, cleaning stuff, feeling all bubbly and happy and no one to share it with. Kyle's at work in that diner place. Leaves me plenty of time to enjoy myself and come down, right?

Rayn and me went to that deal, but he'd ended up causing a fight. He got pissed at me later on, ‘cause he'd pulled out a gun and threatened to shoot them. He's spent too long with Cancer. Cancer wouldn't have even bothered threatening them, so I guess it's something, but y'know. Still, I guess it explains the look he gave me before when I said I haven't sunk that low. Anyways, he said he had to go out of town to let things settle and landed me with his crack. He told me to sell it on and give him back the money. Yeah, wasn't too happy with that.

It's kinda weird to think of Rayn carrying a gun around and threatening to blow someone's brains out. He just doesn't seem the type. He's like one of those annoying skater kids that's just happy all the time. But I s'pose the drugs changed him underneath all that.

I say that like it's not changed me at all. They didn't bring on my other...issues, but they certainly made them worse.

Fuck, I really need to be with someone. First person I think of is Rayn, ‘cause he won't be an ass about me getting high. Only he's pissed at me. Kyle? I mean, maybe if all I do is sit there, he won't notice too much, ‘cause he'll be busy.

Like a slick movie transition, the next thing I know is I'm sat in the car outside the diner, looking inside. I've seen pervy guy molesting people as usual, but he seems to be focussing on one person in particular: my boyfriend. I watch through the window as he goes as far as pulling Kyle onto his lap. I can't see what his hands are doing, but judging by the way he's kissing Kyle's neck, it can't be anything I'd be happy with.

Remember how my temper tends to get a little bit on the explosive side when I'm high on cocaine? Well, that would be why I'm suddenly inside, throwing him to the floor.

"Damien! What the fuck?" I'm vaguely aware of Kyle being horrified at this, but to be honest, I'm more interested in beating the fuck out of this guy and making sure he can't touch anyone ever again. He tries to pull me back. Sure. I can't reach him with my fists now. That leaves my legs free. I kick the perv, not caring what part of him I'm hitting. "Damien!"

"Don't you fucking touch my boyfriend!" I shout. The perv just laughs.

"Damien, please," Kyle says still trying to get me to stop. I get another kick in, aiming to break the guy's nose. It's right about now that I can suddenly see the appeal in a gun. Fuck, how powerful must someone feel, pointing a gun at someone's face?

That thought kinda shatters as Kyle manages to push me far enough that I can't reach the perv guy anymore.

"Damien, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I came here for a coffee and to see you, not to watch you just put up with that fucking scumbag touching you!" I half shout, sort of realising somewhere in the back of my mind that that was actually why I'd reacted so badly. He was just taking it.

"Babe, calm down," he says, putting a hand either side of my face. I slap his hands away, and he gives me this hurt look, but I'm beyond caring right now.

"You didn't even try to stop him! How's that s'posed to make me feel?"

He looks down at his feet, "I guess I've just gotten used to it." That's hardly a fucking excuse, Kyle. I'm glaring at the both of them now. I push past Kyle, acutely aware of the people in the diner all staring at us. I s'pose at least this time it's not just paranoia or something.

I try to leave, but Kyle grabs my hand.

"Please, I'm sorry." He bites my lip when I don't respond in any way. I pull my hand back after a moment and walk away. I can feel the fit of paranoia creeping up on me. I'd quite like to be behind the couch before it hits. 


The End

80 comments about this exercise Feed