The Day It Died

Nathan1

The day it died, the day it ALL died, I was drunk. At least, I was drunk when I woke up. Once the alcohol wore off, though, I needed something else. I needed a fix real bad. I left the house at quarter to eleven, and I could feel everyone staring at me. Staring at my arms. I knew the track marks stood out, purple and ugly, on my pale white skin. But I honestly didn't care. I was after something, and nothing would stop me from getting it. It had been hours since the last time I had a needle in my arm. It felt like days. But it was going to be okay . . . I was on my way to someone who could help me.2

Angela3

Nathan always called me his angel. I always told him he was crazy. There is nothing angelic about me. But to a junkie who needs his candy, anyone who supplies it is sent from God. I remember that day. He came over around eleven o' clock. He asked me to help him. He was shaking, and sweating horribly. I knew I shouldn't do it, but I gave him the needle. And the spoon. And his medicine. Jesus, he took it in like it was his own blood . . . something completely familiar to his system, something he needed to survive. I tried to tell him to stop, but by then it was out of my hands. He looked so beautiful, so happy, so alive. I couldn't bring myself to take that away from him.4

Nathan5

Oh lord, it was such a rush. I had forgotten how just a few short hours could completely renew a feeling for you. I closed my eyes, and I think I fell asleep. When I woke up again, everything was dark. Angela was looking at me with a worried look on her face. I asked her what was wrong, but she didn't answer. I went outside and looked up. The sky, the sun, the moon, they were all missing. Everything was dark, and slightly bluish. It was beautiful, but I wanted it to stop. And it did, eventually. Once I learned that the world had died, everything went black. 6

Angela7

3 days later, they buried him. I decided not to go to the funeral - his parents were already upset enough. They didn't need me there to make it worse. But that day, I threw away the needles. I went and checked myself into a rehab program. I wasn't about to do to my family what Nathan did to his. I'm okay now . . . living in a nice apartment, respectable neighborhood, I have a good job . . . and I owe it all to Nathan. I used to be his angel, now he's mine.8