Content Warnings: discussion of addiction, references to drug use & addiction slip
The nausea woke me up first. I sat up as quickly as I could. Although it felt like someone hit my head with a hammer when I did.
I vomited into a trash container that sat beside me, coughing after I was done. I took a cloth from someone’s hand and wiped my mouth.
When I glanced up, I saw Celeste, my old roommate from recruit training, scribbling in a journal. We were on her roof… and I didn’t remember going to her house.
“Damn it,” I whispered. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” I cried, kicking at the tiles. I let out a frustrated groan as I clawed at my hair.
“I’ve seen my fair share of people on soot, Dax,” Celeste said. “It’s not a big deal.”
“For me it is,” I replied.
“Why would it – ” Celeste stopped short as she caught my sideways glance. “Oh.” And now she knew. She understood that she was talking to a soot addict who had made a huge mistake.
“How long has it been?”
“Eight years,” I replied with a sigh. I flopped back onto the rooftop, staring up at the bright blue sky. “Eight long years.”
Celeste was silent.
“My head is killing me,” I muttered.
“Well, maybe a shower will do you some good,” Celeste replied. “And rinse your mouth out while you’re at it. Iwjeotimedlskiteost.”
Celeste grabbed the trash container from the roof and went back into her house through the window. I followed her in, realizing as I did that I was completely barefoot. I’d somehow lost the shoes I was wearing last night. …It wasn’t the worst I’d done on soot.
After a shower and a good ten minutes of teeth brushing, I felt a little better. The smell of Celeste’s cooking made my stomach growl. It was a light breakfast she’d made: an egg cooked into a slice of toast.
“Thank you,” I said when I sat at the table. “For… dealing with me.”
“Sure,” Celeste replied with a smile. “And you can stay as long as you need.”
I glanced up curiously from sprinkling pepper on my food.
“You talked a lot last night,” said Celeste.
I grimaced in response. Soot made me dangerously honest.
Just as we finished breakfast, a frantic knocking came at the door.
“Dax!” came Leslie’s voice. “Dax, are you here?!”
“Yeah!” I called. “I’ll be right there!”
As soon as I opened the door, Leslie wrapped their arms around me, squeezing tightly. “Thank the gods you’re alive,” they said. Their entire body was shaking.
“Sorry,” I whispered, reaching up to rest my hands on their back.
“Jeijtmlektjgfijsodlkmrtfghjoiemkrefkjduhsjgmklerfkjnhdjgmkrfirjfmright,” Celeste said from behind me. “Heoitjmedlntujeorfmlsdkrfjake?”
“A full packet,” Leslie replied, squeezing tighter. “She had an entire packet.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.
Leslie stepped back, gripping my shoulders. And their eyes met mine for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “You don’t feel sick or anything?”
I shrugged. “I feel fine right now.”
“Alright,” Leslie breathed out. “Alright. I need to let Ramona know you’re alive. And yetijmelfdskjtnhfjkelmrfkndsfjidosmlrkfedit?” they called to Celeste.
“Of course,” Celeste replied.
Leslie glanced at me once more, then wrapped their arms around me again.
“Thank the gods,” I heard them whisper.
Leslie sighed and stepped away. As they walked down the forest path from Celeste’s house, they would glance back every few steps as if to make sure I was still there.
To be continued…