Page 4 of Creatures Like Us

“Maybe this means nothing too, huh?” she snarls, pointing between us. “You and me? Do I mean nothing to you?”

“What? No?…?You mean a lot to me, Lilith! You know that.”

My hazy words aren’t having the impact they would have if I were sober. Not a chance.

“Anyway, we’re going upstairs.” She pulls the guy with her, and they disappear up the stairs, to the secluded bedroom I know is an occasional fuck zone.

I’m left to stare at them, feeling like the ground is ripping open at my feet and swallowing me down with it.

I need to get out.

I need fresh air—fresh darkness to seep into my eyes and eradicate the images flitting through my mind?…?Of Lilith kissing another guy and thinking nothing of it?…?Of Lilith straddling that guy and ripping her bra off, like she’s done with me a hundred times. Are we over now? Why is this happening?

“Whoa, there,” a deep voice says as I rush past the crowd by the patio. It’s that big, scary biker—the one with the bird-name boyfriend. “Not bringing a jacket?”

“I’m just going for a smoke.” To avoid letting him see how high I am, I avert my gaze.

“Pretty cold outside, kid.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Even though I said I was just going for a smoke, I need to get further away from here. The music is too overbearing, and it just reminds me of what my girlfriend—ex-girlfriend?—is doing inside that house right at this moment.

I should go up there and fight for her, but what’s the point? She’s obviously got some fucked-up misconceptions about me—some fucked-up misconceptions abouteverything, the least of which is how to break up with someone without ripping their heart out of their chest.

I didn’t mean anything by sitting close to that girl, or rather, byhersitting close tome, and I definitely didn’t mean to almost kiss her, or rather, I didn’t mean to letheralmost kissme. I would’ve explained more if Lilith had asked, but I?…?I couldn’t. I failed.

So it’s my fault after all. Just my luck. It always is.

My brother’s voice echoes in my head.Great job, Ash.

I sigh.Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a worthless piece of junkie shit—you don’t need to tell me.

I’m not the type of person people approve of, except when it comes to my looks. I appear innocent and charming at first glance, with my bright-blue eyes, curly blond hair, and perpetually smiling mouth. Smiling because I’m high, but I can fake it easily enough when I’m not.

I dig my hands into the pockets of my jeans and make my way down the suburban street. I need to find somewhere that’s not here. Somewhere that isn’t wrong.

I should be fucking freezing. The snow should be eating away at my Converse at this point, but I barely feel it. Heroin is a nice companion in that way; if I ever end up homeless like those folks on skid row, I won’t feel the cold so much. Good to know.

If it weren’t for our parents, you’d be homeless already.

My brother’s voice again. I already know I’ve fucked up every single opportunity ever handed to me, but isn’t that knowledge enough on its own? Why remind me of my failures again and again? Give me a break.

The fresh air yanks me out of my high, and I feel a top-up is in order. I don’t know how much time has passed since I took that hit in the bathroom, but it has to be at least an hour by now. I’m hardly accustomed to doing drugs in the middle of the street, but it’s not like there are any people here, anyway. Everyone is at home, either asleep or still celebrating the new year.

I fish a ziplock bag out of my jeans. My emergency stash, as I call it. A bunch of oxy pills all crushed into a fine powder. I dig the edge of my key into the bag and inhale the white powder into my left nostril. The high isn’t as instant as heroin, but it’ll do in a pinch.

I kick a wad of snow as I keep walking, and after a while, I’m so tired I can barely stand up. I’m just going to lean against a lamppost for a while; that’s fine?…?Seems like the entirety of the neighborhood’s load of snow has been shoveled up to this very corner, which is fine by me—it means I can lie down and rest here.

If I could just sleep for a little while, I’m sure I’d feel better. Yeah, let’s just forget about that other stuff?…

You’ll be fine, Ash—you’ll be all right. Just sleep…

Chapter 2

Noah

IfigureNewYear’sEve is a good day to kill yourself.