Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Can't Be Saved
I just finished my shift at Jazzhands; it's 4:30 in the morning, and I'm exhausted . I haven't had a hit in more than seven hours. I ran out while I was at work, and I'm starting to lose it. At least I made $200 tonight. Now I just have to make it to the hotel and call my dealer in one piece, and I'll be okay.
I'm only two block from my hotel room when it happens. Withdrawal. I can feel my bones start to ache; my heart beats faster. I start to sweat and feel dizzy. I feel like I'm going to throw up, and my arms start to itch. I try to walk faster, but it's useless. I'm so preoccupied with scratching at my arms that I don't realize what I'm doing, and I run right into someone walking down the street.
"Sorry," I say to the stranger as we both fall to the ground.
"It's okay," the man says as he stands up. "Are you ok?" he says to me as I'm still on the ground scratching my arms and sweating to death.
"Yeah I'm fine," I say with my back to him, still sitting on the ground.
"You don't look so good. Do you need help up?" he says to me, extending his hand to help me up.
"Okay," is all I say, grabbing his hand as he helps me up, but as I start to stand a pain shoots through my leg, and I fall forward, stumbling into the man trying to help me.
"Whoa, dude, are sure you're okay?" he asks again as he helps me stand back up again.
"Thanks, sorry for running into you," I say to him as try and walk away, but I fall again and land on my face.
"Have you been drinking?" the man asks me, helping me to my feet once again.
"No, I just got off work, and I'm just trying to get to my hotel room," I say, yanking my arm away from him once I'm on my feet.
"Where do you work that you get off at four in the morning?" he asks as I try to back away toward my hotel.
"I work at Jazzhands. I've got to go," I say quickly, trying my best to walk away.
"What's your name?" he yells after me. I've gotten quite far away from him, or I thought I did at least.
"Frank. Now I really have to go," I say, turning and walking away.
A few minutes later I find myself at my hotel room. I scramble around for my phone in my bag. I finally find it and scroll through the numbers eventually finding the one I'm looking for and pushing send.
"It's me, Frank," I say as soon as I hear someone pick up. "I need 200 worth. Yeah, my hotel room," I say as I hang up. I walk into the bathroom and look into the mirror. My eyes are dark, like I haven't slept in days. I haven't actually. I pull my shirt off and look at all my tattoos. It's a good thing I have them to hide all my track marks and any other marks I've gotten over the years. I'm only 20 years old, and what have I done with my life? Well, I've become a stripper at a popular male strip club making $200-$300 a night, and, to top it all off, I'm a heroin addict with no friends and no family. I'm completely alone. As I'm standing there looking at my miserable self, I hear a knock at my door. I practically run out of the bathroom to answer it.
"Hi, come in," I say to Mike, my dealer.
"200, right?"
"Yeah, here," I say, handing him the money.
I snatch my drug out of his hands as he takes the money from mine. I rush over to the bedside table and lay everything out. I pull out my needles and go to work. I glance over at Mike to see him staring at me.
"What?"
"Nothing, dude. Just when did you get so bad?"
I just glare at him as I fill the syringe. "I don't know," I say as I poke my skin with the syringe. As I fill my veins, I looked over at Mike. He's just staring at me.
"What?" I say again with a sigh. I'm beginning to feel so good.
"Nothing," he says as he walks out the door.
I fall backwards onto the bed I'm sitting on. Mike and I used to be best friends back in high school. Back then he went by Mikey. We used to do everything together. Then I found heroin, and we fell apart and lost touch. That was until I found out he was dealing.
----The next morning----
I wake up on the bed I must have passed out. I glance over at the clock, and it reads 2:15pm. Great, only seven hours till I have to be at work. I rub my eyes and look around the room, Then I spot it on the table next to me. "Shit," I whisper to myself. I grab the syringe and fill it once again like I always do, but then there is a knock on the door. "Fuck," I say under my breath as I push the substance into my blood.
"Yes?" I say as a open the door slightly.
"Your check out time has passed. Are you staying or checking out?"
Fuck it was the hotel manager. "Um...I don't have enough money to stay any longer," I say through the small crack in the door.
"Then you need to leave," the hotel manager says, walking away.
Shit, now I have to find somewhere else to go, but I have no money, so I guess its back out on to the streets. I slowly start to pack the few thing that I have into my bag and head out the door toward work. I know I can stay in the ally behind it because there are some guys I know that stay there as well.
I'm only two block from my hotel room when it happens. Withdrawal. I can feel my bones start to ache; my heart beats faster. I start to sweat and feel dizzy. I feel like I'm going to throw up, and my arms start to itch. I try to walk faster, but it's useless. I'm so preoccupied with scratching at my arms that I don't realize what I'm doing, and I run right into someone walking down the street.
"Sorry," I say to the stranger as we both fall to the ground.
"It's okay," the man says as he stands up. "Are you ok?" he says to me as I'm still on the ground scratching my arms and sweating to death.
"Yeah I'm fine," I say with my back to him, still sitting on the ground.
"You don't look so good. Do you need help up?" he says to me, extending his hand to help me up.
"Okay," is all I say, grabbing his hand as he helps me up, but as I start to stand a pain shoots through my leg, and I fall forward, stumbling into the man trying to help me.
"Whoa, dude, are sure you're okay?" he asks again as he helps me stand back up again.
"Thanks, sorry for running into you," I say to him as try and walk away, but I fall again and land on my face.
"Have you been drinking?" the man asks me, helping me to my feet once again.
"No, I just got off work, and I'm just trying to get to my hotel room," I say, yanking my arm away from him once I'm on my feet.
"Where do you work that you get off at four in the morning?" he asks as I try to back away toward my hotel.
"I work at Jazzhands. I've got to go," I say quickly, trying my best to walk away.
"What's your name?" he yells after me. I've gotten quite far away from him, or I thought I did at least.
"Frank. Now I really have to go," I say, turning and walking away.
A few minutes later I find myself at my hotel room. I scramble around for my phone in my bag. I finally find it and scroll through the numbers eventually finding the one I'm looking for and pushing send.
"It's me, Frank," I say as soon as I hear someone pick up. "I need 200 worth. Yeah, my hotel room," I say as I hang up. I walk into the bathroom and look into the mirror. My eyes are dark, like I haven't slept in days. I haven't actually. I pull my shirt off and look at all my tattoos. It's a good thing I have them to hide all my track marks and any other marks I've gotten over the years. I'm only 20 years old, and what have I done with my life? Well, I've become a stripper at a popular male strip club making $200-$300 a night, and, to top it all off, I'm a heroin addict with no friends and no family. I'm completely alone. As I'm standing there looking at my miserable self, I hear a knock at my door. I practically run out of the bathroom to answer it.
"Hi, come in," I say to Mike, my dealer.
"200, right?"
"Yeah, here," I say, handing him the money.
I snatch my drug out of his hands as he takes the money from mine. I rush over to the bedside table and lay everything out. I pull out my needles and go to work. I glance over at Mike to see him staring at me.
"What?"
"Nothing, dude. Just when did you get so bad?"
I just glare at him as I fill the syringe. "I don't know," I say as I poke my skin with the syringe. As I fill my veins, I looked over at Mike. He's just staring at me.
"What?" I say again with a sigh. I'm beginning to feel so good.
"Nothing," he says as he walks out the door.
I fall backwards onto the bed I'm sitting on. Mike and I used to be best friends back in high school. Back then he went by Mikey. We used to do everything together. Then I found heroin, and we fell apart and lost touch. That was until I found out he was dealing.
----The next morning----
I wake up on the bed I must have passed out. I glance over at the clock, and it reads 2:15pm. Great, only seven hours till I have to be at work. I rub my eyes and look around the room, Then I spot it on the table next to me. "Shit," I whisper to myself. I grab the syringe and fill it once again like I always do, but then there is a knock on the door. "Fuck," I say under my breath as I push the substance into my blood.
"Yes?" I say as a open the door slightly.
"Your check out time has passed. Are you staying or checking out?"
Fuck it was the hotel manager. "Um...I don't have enough money to stay any longer," I say through the small crack in the door.
"Then you need to leave," the hotel manager says, walking away.
Shit, now I have to find somewhere else to go, but I have no money, so I guess its back out on to the streets. I slowly start to pack the few thing that I have into my bag and head out the door toward work. I know I can stay in the ally behind it because there are some guys I know that stay there as well.
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