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Post by Logan Sloan on Jan 29, 2008 23:28:50 GMT -5
Seriously? Two drug addicts in the same room? Where these fuckers retarded? Once Logan learned that his new roommate was a fellow user, his days seemed to get better. Now he'd actually have someone he could relate to and talk to because these nurses and staff deffinately weren't doing anything for him.
He didn't like to chill in the room, but he figured he would, just to meet this new guy. He didn't even know why the workers would be so stupid as to tell him what this kid was here for. He figured it was a work of God and vowed to give up cigarettes...for about an hour.
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Post by Aaron Martin on Jan 30, 2008 0:23:24 GMT -5
So, they'd told him that, not only did he have a room, but he had a roommate as well. He didn't really ask any questions during his briefing session. He figured it would be best to nod at everything, even if he didn't understand. Even if this wasn't a place like that, it was better to be safe than sorry.
He shuffled down the hallway. It seemed quiet and sterile, like a hospital should be, except the people they were treating here wouldn't get better with antibiotics. His mind was starting to wrap around the significance of his being here, but that quickly went away when he entered his room.
Casting a quick gaze, he went over to his bed. He could feel both their presences occupying the room, but made no effort to speak.
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Post by Logan Sloan on Jan 30, 2008 11:26:48 GMT -5
Logan could always just tell from looking at someone that they were a user, and this guy was. He looked like somebody that he used to sell drugs to, just his stance and the bags under his eyes and the desperate longing in his face. He seemed sutle, like he didn't want to start a big rant or a fight, like he was just...scared.
"Hey man," Logan efforted to make conversation. "The withdrawl is the hardest part. Once that's done, this place isn't so much of a hellhole."
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Post by Aaron Martin on Jan 30, 2008 12:22:19 GMT -5
"I couldn't imagine this place being any less of a hellhole," Aaron said, surprised that the words slipped out of his mouth. He didn't want to talk to anyone, but something in his subconscious didn't want the same thing, apparently. Maybe it was his need for basic human interaction. He didn't know, but he didn't know if he cared, either.
And maybe he was an addict. The doctors here had said that he had exhibited classic addictive behavior when they evaluated him. That struck him as funny, because he didn't have an addictive personality. And besides, he didn't think that you could get addicted to weed or shrooms, but ex...ex was killer. If there was anything he got hooked on, it was ex. Besides, who knew what the ex had been laced with...
"So, what do they have you in here for?" he asked. Those words...the words he'd just spoken were a rarity; they brought out his former nature...before everything had started heading south for him.
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 2, 2008 23:23:30 GMT -5
"Me? Same thing as you, bro," Logan said, shrugging and sitting down on his bed. "I mean, I've heard you're into a lot more stuff than I was, though. I did pot, mostly. Dealt a lot, too." Logan wasn't looking at Aaron, he was just giving the floor a blank stare. It was easier for him to talk to people without actually talking to them; at least until he got to know them a little better.
"So where you from? Big drug scene type deal?"
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Post by Aaron Martin on Feb 3, 2008 0:22:55 GMT -5
Aaron looked up at Logan, studying him. Logan wasn't looking at him, so he figured he was getting away with it. This guy seemed like a toughie; a rough and tumble kinda guy that said "fuck" in every other (or probably every) sentence and had an attitude to match.
"No. I started using after my dad died," he said, his words ringing with a tone that demanded that attention be paid.
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Post by Logan Sloan on Feb 3, 2008 14:34:17 GMT -5
Logan had experienced the whole 'death to people he was close with' thing before. He also saw people he didn't know die by the hands of drug dealers and the mindless zombies they supplied to. By now, Logan had learned that death was just a part of life, and he'd come to the realization that the people dying were probably better off that way, rather than spending the rest of their miserable lives trying to score more substances.
"Hey man," Logan wasn't the one that anyone should go to for comfort, but he figured trying to help was better than being an ass about it. "I didn't know, I'm sorry. Figured you were like the ones I run with, just looking for a good time."
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Post by Aaron Martin on Feb 4, 2008 1:49:57 GMT -5
As quickly as it came, Aaron's newfound confidence vanished, probably because it was only when people pushed the "DAD" button that he went off. Then again, it wasn't like anyone knew that, but he figured that ignorance of the "law" was no excuse. Still, this was the first time it had happened, and hopefully the last.
"I never thought drugs were a good time," he said.
"I thought they were a great time," he added in a whisper only he could hear. Truthfully, the only time he'd felt even close to being normal was when he was fucked up on something or another.
Click. Maybe it was because of his attitude that he didn't realize that his drug use was a problem.
Suddenly, the skin on Logan's hands began to crawl. He tried his best not to show the fear he was feeling right then, not to show his shock that something odd was happening.
The walls began to crawl after that, moving and squirming like there were little bugs under it trying to get out.
God. I'm having a flashback, he thought, wondering if he was doing as good of a job as he thought he was of hiding it.
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