He doesn’t know when it started; rather he doesn’t know when it got so out of control. But he supposes like the seasons, thing just happen to change.
And that’s life.
The whole plane crash that he is just so fortunate to call his life had all ignited when his brother, his best friend, his only friend decided removed himself from existence taking a piece of him along the way. The void wasn’t hard to fill, just like the marijuana wasn’t hard to obtain. He wasn’t popular, not at all, but he was known. He knew people. He knew people who knew people who could get him what he wanted for a small fee of ten dollars a bag.
A dime of marijuana all to himself; his parents too caught up with the loss of their first born to even recognize the smell or notice the everlasting haze that seem to have etch it’s self above the young boy’s head.

But that was high school, the senior year at that.
All the rest of the years Alex had done his duties. Wasn’t a huge partier; on the occasion if one of his friends really wanted him to go. He did his work. He got by. He got accepted to college and by the time the turbulence of the crash began to take place, he was in a comfortable zone to be able to slack off.

When his graduation came rolling around, he was happy to get so much of a grumble of a good bye from his newly estranged parents take the first bus out of Baltimore his little haze of happiness still etched up top his pretty dingy blond hair.

Sophomore year of college is when the downward spiral began to go into full effect.

The night, he wishes was so desperately a bad dream is all too vivid in his head. The acidic torture of every moment constantly relived in his mind. The night came back to him in the form of words, night terrors; dreams that seemed to be endless.
“You’re so pretty. Pretty boys like you shouldn’t be wondering around late like this.”

The syllables of every word in the statements were drawn out, like they were mocking him. Just thinking about it sent a wave of nausea though out his stomach and a chill down his spine.
After that night, things were never the same.

As if consistency was ever a thing the young man had ever been accustomed to.
He began to drink. Drink heavily. It was to the point where he was drinking more than he was consuming. The weed, it wasn’t doing enough for him and soon enough neither was the alcohol. Eventually he turned to club drugs. Acid, Special K, but it just didn’t cut it. It didn’t numb him enough. Or it didn’t numb him long enough and he was sick. He was sick of feeling.
That’s when he did.
He did his fist bump of crystal meth.

It wasn’t like he intended for it to get this out of hand. He didn’t mean for things to turn out this way. But once you’ve had a taste of the monster it’s as if it becomes a part of you. It becomes you. Taking over you, changes you. He was soon kicked out of college.
Scholarships don’t support failing student. His parents cut him off. They found out and wanted nothing to do with him or his drug escapades. He turned to the streets. He had nothing left. He sold love in return for drugs or money for drugs. He just didn’t want to feel anymore. He wanted nothing to do with the life he once lived.
As if he had a choice

Notes

Yo

~kayla