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A Dangerous Habit (standard:drama, 2075 words)
Author: WildstangtooAdded: Jul 08 2006Views/Reads: 3075/2186Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young woman gets evicted from her mother's home and falls back in with the wrong crowd.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Diane jerked her head toward Pete, her eyes widened, and her brow
tightened.  “What happened?” 

“She od'd two days ago.  Not sure if she's going to make it.” 

“How!  Where?  I just saw her last week.  Oh, my God.”  Diane put her
hand over her mouth and shook her head in disbelief. 

“Someone sold her some bad shit.” 

“Do you know who it was?” 

“Naw, could've been anyone.  There's too many dealers around now, you
gotta be careful.  This stuff I got is A- number one.  Come on, let's 
go over to my house and get high.” 

Diane sank to the curb, pulled her knees up to her chin, and laid her
head down.  Pete tossed the bag out of the way, sat down next to her, 
and put his arm around her. 

“Everything's gonna be alright, Suzy's tough, she'll make it.  Don't
worry.  A bunch of the guys will be at my house this afternoon, why 
don't you come over for a while?  If you don't wanna get high, that'll 
be okay.  Hey, you don't have anywhere else to go.” 

Diane lifted her head and stared into Pete's eyes.  He was right, she
didn't have anywhere to go, and what harm would one hit do?  She'd done 
it with him hundred's of times, and he always did have some ass-kicking 
stuff.  Besides, it would be nice to see the rest of the gang, and she 
could always get clean again.  She could walk away from the stuff 
anytime she wanted and never touch it. 

“Come on, Di, I'll carry your stuff.” 

Pete pushed his long, straggly hair to the side and threw the plastic
bag over his shoulder.  He pulled his baggy jeans up, held out his left 
hand to Diane, and helped her to her feet.  They strolled along the 
grass to the crosswalk and then waited for the light to change.  It 
would be okay to party for a while.  Besides, by tomorrow her mother 
would forgive her and let her move back in.  She smiled as the light 
changed and the two of them walked across the street. 

Diane heard the music long before she saw the four cars which lined the
driveway of Pete's house.  A couple of them she recognized, but the 
other two were foreign to her.  Pete knocked on the door and Kathy, one 
of Diane's friends, unlocked the door and let them inside.  She could 
feel the thump of bass against her chest and the scream of heavy metal 
guitars pounding in her ears.  Incense burned on the cabinet, but even 
that didn't mask the sweet smell of burning crack.  Kathy locked the 
door and threw her arms around Diane. 

“Hey, girl, where you been?  I haven't seen you in ages.” 

“Been away for a few weeks, you know, rehab.” 

“Yeah, my mom had me locked up there once.  The place sucked.  I
couldn't wait to get out.  They treat you like shit in there.” 

“I heard that.  It hasn't changed any.  I don't ever want to go back
there again.” 

“Me either.  Here, try some of this.”  Kathy took a hit then handed
Diane a crack pipe. 

“Not right now, I better wait a while.  I'm going to play it cool.” 

“Come on, don't be a pus, Di, you and I go way back.  You remember me
and you skipping school in eighth grade?  We stole some of your 
brother's pot and slipped into old Mr. Jennings's barn and smoked it.”  
Kathy laughed, took another hit, and held the pipe out. 

Diane wrapped her fingers around it as though she were caressing a
child, then raised the pipe to her lips.  She took a deep breath, 
savoring the aroma, and then pulled the smoke into her lungs.  She 
closed her eyes as the soothing warmth spread through her body.  A 
second hit, then another, and her despair was gone.  Any thoughts she 
had about where she would spend the night, how would she get a meal, or 
what tomorrow might bring, disappeared from her mind. 

“That's my girl.”  Pete wrapped his arms around Diane's shoulder and
pulled her close.  “It's gonna be like old times, babe, we'll have some 
fun tonight.” 

Diane partook of more drugs then began drinking whiskey.  Twice, the
police came and told Pete to turn the music down, but as soon as they 
left, he would crank the stereo back up.  By three in the morning, the 
party had wound down and most of the people had left or were passed 
out. 

“Come on, Di, let's go to my room.  I've got the good stuff in there.” 

Diane staggered into Pete's bedroom and fell across his bed while he
removed a metal box from his closet and then unlocked it.  He emptied a 
pipe, then scraped some pure rock off and stuffed it in the pipe. 

“You get the first hit, Di.”  Pete helped her sit up on the edge of the
bed then handed her the pipe.  He lit it then sat down beside her. 

“I've had enough, Pete, let me sleep.”  Her words slurred as she spoke. 

“Come on, just take one hit.  It's some really good shit.”  He ran his
hand along the inside of her thigh as he tried to coax her into trying 
it. 

Diane placed the pipe to her lips and filled her lungs, holding the
poison inside for several seconds.  She exhaled then took another hit.  
Before she could get the smoke out of her lungs she began to convulse.  
Vomit spewed from her mouth, her legs shook, and her eyes rolled back 
in her head as she fell to the floor. 

“You okay, Di?  What's wrong?” 

She gasped for air and writhed on the carpet.  Pete panicked and ran
from the room.  He tried to wake Kathy, but she was passed out cold.  
He finally managed to get Brad to get up and the two of them rushed 
into the bedroom.  By then, Diane was barely breathing. 

“What are we going to do, Pete?” 

“I don't know, man.  If they find her here I'm in deep trouble.  Come
on, let's put her in your car.” 

“I don't want them to find her in my car.” 

“You got to help me get her out of my house.  We'll take her to her
mother's house and put her on the porch.  If they find her in here, 
you'll be in as much trouble as I am.” 

The two men carried Diane to Brad's car and put her in the back seat. 
There was no traffic so it only took a few minutes to get to the street 
where Diane's mother lived.  When they tuned the corner, Brad turned 
the lights off and eased up to the house.  They pulled her from the car 
and laid her on the concrete.  Brad got back in the car while Pete 
pressed the door bell then ran.  They were out of sight before Diane's 
mother opened the door. 

“Oh, my God.  Diane, Diane, what's wrong with you?  Are you alright. 
Diane, wake up.”  She shook her daughter and slapped her face, but the 
girl didn't respond. 

“This is 911.  Do you have an emergency?” 

“Yes, please send an ambulance, my daughter, she want wake up.” 

“Calm down ma'am and tell me what's going on.” 

“My daughter is on the front porch and she won't wake up.”  The woman
screamed. 

“Okay, is she breathing?” 

“I don't know.  Send an ambulance.  Now. Hurry.” 

“Tell me your address.” 

“It's...uh...uh, twenty one forty five Division street.” 

“What's your name?” 

“Margaret, Margaret Kinston.” 

“What's your daughter's name?” 

“Uh, Diane, it's Diane.  Please hurry.” 

“The ambulance is on the way.  Stay on the phone with me.” 

“Okay, I will.” 

The paramedics checked Diane's vital signs and then rushed her into the
ambulance.  Her mother climbed in the back and held her daughter's hand 
while they attached an IV and placed an oxygen mask over the woman's 
mouth. 

“What kind of drugs does she take?” 

“I don't know, crack I think, but she just got out of rehab.  Is she
going to be alright?” 

“The doctor will have to tell you that.” 

They wheeled her into the emergency room and placed her on the table. 
The doctor asked Diane's mother to wait outside while he examined the 
woman.  Several nurses hurried down the hall and rushed into the room. 

Diane stared at the light on the ceiling and marveled at how beautiful
it was.  She wanted to reach out and touch it, but her arms didn't seem 
to respond.  Brighter and brighter it became until she seemed to be 
inside of the beam.  The myriad of colors reminded her of a rainbow she 
had seen as a child.  It soothed her, she felt sick no longer, and she 
wanted to sleep.  She smiled ever so slightly and closed her eyes.  
Tomorrow, she'd get clean again and she would never touch the stuff 
again. 

The doctor placed the paddles into the holders on the defibrillator and
looked at the clock on the wall.  “Time of death is five seventeen 
A.M.”  He pulled the sheet over her head and walked out of the room. 


   


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