Chapter 1

Warm.

The water flowed over my body and mixed with the bile in my mouth. Naked and curled on the shower floor, I once again tried to piece together exactly where I was.

Who I was.

I vomited again and tasted the familiar mix of Jack Daniels and my own stomach acid.

Welcome to Tuesday.

I dried myself off and checked the clock. 6:23 A.M. I shouldn't have any problem making it to work. The toothpaste was a welcome companion to the current hell that was raging in my mouth. I rinsed my mouth for the third time and once again confronted the person I hated in the mirror.

Empty.

my eyes were empty.

Blood red and empty.

As I inched closer to the reflection the familiar rage surfaced and those same blood red eyes seared with anger.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

"I hate you..."


*********************************

The drive to work was like most other weekdays. My head pounded and I actually moved in and out of darkness. The ritual was the same. Enter car. Turn on car. Load pipe. First gear. High ho High ho its off to work I go. I am one horrendous crash waiting to ruin the lives of whomever is unlucky enough to meet me on the road at 7 A.M. I welcome that thought.

Every car I pass, every tree, every solid object becomes a daydream.

Just one quick turn of the wheel. No pain

The weed really hasn't helped the pounding in my head so a couple Vicadin should at least make the start of my work day bearable.

As I sat waiting for the light to turn green I didn't even notice the tears. Slowly at first they came. I had cried before but something was different today.

I couldn't stop.

"What are you going to do now?"

"What are you going to do now?"

"WHAT are you going to do now?"

over and over in my head.

"FUCK!"

"What are you going to do now?"

I hate you...

I drove through the tears. I drove through the anger. I drove through the pain. By the time I pulled into the parking lot I was a wreak. I sat in my car wondering if I should just turn around and go home. How much more of this could I take. I have to make a decision one way or the other.

Live.

Die.

I hate myself but I hate the pain even more.

I walk towards the front door, take a deep breath and walk inside. One more decision to make.

Take a right to my desk or turn left and walk into the office of my boss.

"What are you going to do now?"

over and over in my head.

I didn't even knock on his door for fear that in that split second I might change my mind. I just barged in on him as he was talking on the phone. He took one look at my face and ended his phone call gracefully.

I am a drug addict and an alcoholic and I need to get out of here.

I still can't believe I hear myself saying this.

"Are you serious?"

"I am going to die. I need help."

The fear and the tears must have been enough to convince him that I was serious. He was on the phone in a matter of seconds.

There is no turning back