So, Yeah... I Don't Do Drugs Anymore.

So, Yeah… I Don’t Do Drugs Anymore.<br><br>I mean, I wasn’t a meth head or anything, and definitely not some druggie loser, but I was experimenting with some stuff here and there, you know, just a little fun. I had a buddy named Tommy who would sell me some pretty good weed every now and then, and one time he tried to convince me to try some of that spice with him.<br><br>I told him hell no, that stuff’s bad news. One of our friends had tried it at a party and he started hitting himself in the face and screaming about bears. No thanks. But Tommy said this was some new stuff that was supposed to be similar to MDMA - you know, just something a little different to try, and he promised me it wasn’t that bad, it was decent, and it was a hell of a trip. He called it something like “Moony”, but I’m not really sure how to spell it, he wrote it down for me once but I lost the piece of paper.<br><br>I turned him down at first, but he had a hell of a time convincing me. I think I just liked the idea of trying something new, you know, because I’m young and stupid, and I hadn’t had any drugs in a while, and I was always curious as to what a trip of X would be like. But we weren’t friends to pressure each other into doing things we didn’t want to do, and he knew that I wasn’t into that other stuff, and he could see that I was pretty hesitant, so he left it up to me, and said to just let him know whenever I was ready.<br><br>Well, I never ended up getting back to him about it, and it ended up being a good thing I didn’t, because the guy was a total chump, and if I had been there to take the drug with him who knows what would have happened to me. But anyway, a few days passed, and I didn’t hear from him, and I was starting to get a little worried because the guy was supposed to get his check in the mail and I knew he would want to go out high, grab some drinks and dinner and have a little fun. <br><br>But he didn’t text me or call me that night, and I was starting to get a little worried, so the next morning I decided to give him a call to see what he was up to. I sort of already knew what was up, because we had been friends long enough to know when something was wrong with the other, and so I was sort of expecting it.<br><br>But I wasn’t expecting it like this.<br><br>When I got to his house, I sort of already knew, because the cops were there, and they were all blocked off with tape. His mom was standing outside, crying in her car, and his sister was talking to the cops, and his dad was sort of directing them all around the yard. Their house was still intact, but the shed in their backyard was burned down, nothing but ash, and that’s where they found him.<br><br>Apparently, what happened was that Tommy took some of that shit on his own, and he started flipping out, and he ran through the house screaming at everybody, saying he had to get out, that he had to go outside, that “they were coming” and all that. His family tried to calm him down, but they ended up locking themselves in their rooms because he was going fucking crazy and they didn’t know what else to do. He ran out into the backyard, and he went into that little shed and he just… Jesus Christ… he set himself on fire.<br><br>They don’t know why, they just say that he was probably having some sort of episode, and he mistook the lighter for something else, or maybe he thought it would help him, or maybe he just fucking lost it, I don’t know, I just hope he was too out of it to feel it. But they’re all moving now, and they’re selling the house, and I feel horrible because this is all my fault.<br><br>If I had just gone along with him, if I had just said yeah, I would have been there to stop him. I wouldn’t have let him go into that shed, and who knows what would have happened if I was there, maybe he would still be alive. But I wasn’t, because I’m a coward, and because I’m a piece of shit.<br><br>I went to his funeral, of course. I was in shock, I didn’t know what to do with myself, because we had been friends our whole lives, and I just couldn’t fucking believe it. I still can’t, and a part of me is still holding out some sort of hope that it’s all just some fucking sick joke.<br><br>But it’s not.<br><br>When I walked into the funeral home, I saw all these people standing around that I recognized, classmates and people from school, and some older folks, and some people I didn’t recognize at all, but when I walked up to the casket… Oh my God.<br><br>There was this... This fucking abomination in the casket, this fucking... There was bandages all over his face, but you could still see where the skin was bubbling and peeling off, and his jaw was all fucked up and hanging off to the side, and his teeth were all broken, and… And his eyes, oh Jesus, his eyes were closed, but one of them was all bunched up and bulging out, and I just… I fucking flipped man.<br><br>I started screaming, and I had to hold onto something so I didn’t pass out, and everybody was staring at me, and I sort of lost it, you know, I flipped out, and they had to escort me out, and they made me sit in the car and calm down and all that.<br><br>But the real turning point came when we got to the burial site, because they put him in a closed casket, of course, and I sort of expected that, and even if they hadn’t, there was no way I would have looked at him again. But even just looking at the casket, knowing what his body looked like inside, it was too much.<br><br>I excused myself, and I walked off into the woods, not far from there, and I sat down at the base of a tree, and I sort of lost it for a second, and then all of a sudden I couldn’t smell the grass anymore. The sun sort of moved away, or I guess I just stopped registering it or something, because it stopped warming me up, and the breeze sort of just stopped, and there was no noise, and I sort of felt cold and empty.<br><br>Before I knew it, I was back home, and I was laying in my bed, and it was dark out, and I had no idea how I got there. I didn’t even remember walking home, or opening my front door, or opening my bedroom door, or anything, and I sort of had the feeling that I had been missing for a long time, and I sort of expected someone was going to be looking for me, but when I looked at my phone, it was only seven, which seemed sort of impossible.<br><br>But I didn’t think about it too much, because I was way too occupied thinking about Tommy, because that’s sort of all I had been thinking about, and sort of all I’m still thinking about, because that’s what happens when someone you love dies, and you can’t do anything about it, and you just have to live with it.<br><br>I didn’t get much sleep that night, and what little I did get, it wasn’t very good. I kept on waking up, and I couldn’t get out of bed, and when I did, I couldn’t fucking do anything. I would just sort of wander around the house, or sit there and watch T.V., or just sort of sit there and stare off into fucking space.<br><br>And the next few days were pretty much just as fucking horrible, because I didn’t have a friend to turn to. All our friends that had gone to that party where the guy kept talking about bears, they saw what happened to him, and they stopped doing that stuff, and I was the only one who still showed up to Tommy’s door, the only one who still thought he was funny, the only one who would indulge him in his stupid fucking habits.<br><br>And now he’s fucking dead.<br><br>I just wish I had been there for him man, that’s all, and maybe he wouldn’t have felt so alone, and maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did, and maybe he would still be alive today.<br><br>I just sort of wish everything could go back to the way it was, and life could just fucking go on, and I could still be that fucking stupid kid who didn’t think about that sort of shit, because now that it happened, I just can’t stop thinking about it, you know?<br><br>Death.<br><br>And I just sort of wish it would all just fucking stop, you know? That life would just end and there would be nothing, and no more suffering, and no more problems, and no more death, and everybody could just be at fucking peace, because I think that’s all we fucking deserve.<br><br>But that’s not what we get.<br><br>So, Yeah… I Don’t Do Drugs Anymore.