“Hello. I’m Jasmine and I’m an addict.”
“Hello Jasmine” The room echoed back as was the custom here when any man or woman began to share what they had come to say. All eyes in the room bore down on her and their hearts and ears opened to her. They were all like her and all like themselves. Each had found their own way here for their own reasons. The differences in race, gender, or creed set aside in the joined pain and suffering that was the life of the addict. They would sit and they would listen but never judge for judgements were not welcome here.
The room was alive with beating of many like hearts as they sat drinking coffee some puffing on a cigarette. This place was a sanctuary for those afflicted but it wasn’t the place it was the people the gathering. Tonight it was the old banquet hall across from the local fire company tomorrow a church places and faces changed but the message was always the same. In the back of the room sipping coffee and sitting by himself as had become his custom or even the beginning of a ritual that would ultimately lead to his surrendering of himself to his own peculiar addiction. As he sat and listened to the others share his mind never wandered far from the hunt and the seeming insatiable hunger of his own. And now as Jasmine spoke a careful screening process began.
“Today is three days sober and I’m struggling.” Her eyes were down cast and watery as she took a breath and sobbed. “I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes… they say work the program find a sponsor. Take it day by day and everyday sober is a victory. But I have to be honest it doesn’t feel like I’m winning. Not today not this time. I relapsed a few weeks ago and lost four and a half years. Just gone like it never mattered. I honestly just don’t know if I have the strength to start again. I feel like I’m drifting through some impenetrable darkness just waiting for some horrific monster to devour me. Thank you for letting me share.”
Jasmine concluded abruptly her eyes falling to the floor.
“Thanks for sharing.” The room again echoed back.
“Before we close tonight does anyone have a burning desire or need to share?” In no less than a moment and hand went up and so began hello my name is but this name mattered little to the man in the back as he say eyes still glued to Jasmine with laser focus. He now only need to wait for the meeting to adjourn so he could make his way to the coffee table and pour himself a small splash. It wasn’t the coffee he was interested in but it had become as much a part of his ritual as the patient listening before hand. That last opportunity to reevaluate and categorize the information he had gathered. The time to make a choice or sometimes the time to not make a choice. Tonight though it seemed as if Jasmine had earned his choice. He had known it from almost the moment she had begun talking it was the years of practice and adherence to his own rules and the trust he put in his own intuition. She was vulnerable she was alone and most importantly she would not be easily missed.
The meeting ended and people began to leave while others split into smaller groups and talked. For some these smaller meetings would go on for hours as those recovering and battling there own demons found solace in their peers. His eyes never left Jasmine she lingered for a moment and when she moved she moved for the exit. The decision was being made his adrenaline was already started to flow. His senses heightening become both more aware of every source of stimuli and at the same time with same focus shutting out useless background noise. It was for him the beginning of the ultimate high. Moving quickly towards the door wanting to gain the lead on his prey while at the same time moving with a silent grace leaving no memory or trace of himself.
Dozens of people had seen him with out ever really having seen him. It was his most treasured skill he had come by in his years of hunting. What he considered a form of stealth the ability to become totally unremarkable just a face in a sea off faces. He had been told when he was younger back when he still pretended to have relationships with other people that he had one of those everyman faces. Some may have been insulted by this opinion but not him to him it was a great compliment and had these types of statements not furthered his own courage and grew his own ego that he indeed could move about the sheep a true wolf hidden in plain sight.
Jasmine exited the banquet hall feeling the familiar weight of temptation and longing. She had just given up four years of sobriety and in a few short weeks had destroyed everything she had worked so hard for. It seemed unimaginable that she could regain her grace but she knew that it must have seemed that way all those years ago when she had finally gotten sober, really sober for the first time in her life and she had done it and would do it again. The fresh air hit her and with it some of the temptation moved on as if the breeze took some of it with as it passed. She paused and opened her bag reaching in for her cigarettes even though she knew she had smoked the last of them inside chaining them together in anticipation and steadying her courage share her pain with a total group of strangers. Sharing had become easy in the past as she gave herself totally to the program and worked her way through the steps. But it had been far to long since she had gone to a meeting she had grown complacent. Emboldened by the length of her sobriety she had gone to fewer and fewer meetings and stopped talking to her sponsor all together. That’s when it began the relapse it was months before she picked up the needle again but she knew from working the steps and the program the triggers were there that the storm was on its way and it was gathering momentum. Instead of calling Karen, her sponsor, she decided to run and uproot herself. Leave the abusive ex behind who even after all this time still tried to squirm his way back into her life always carrying with the promise of change and second chances but the truth was disaster and terrible suffering was all she would get. So yes she ran she had years of sobriety on her side and a new place and new faces would do her some good. But in the end the dye was already cast and the wheel was in motion and nothing could stop in now.
She could remember with almost perfect clarity the night she gave herself back to her former mistress that bitch heroin who had already claimed so many friends and loved ones. She had stood in front of the mirror in some dirty hole in the wall motel where the rates went by the hour and not the night. It was a place that felt sadly like home she may never have stood at this particular bathroom sink staring into this particular mirror but it still felt the same. Even as she looked down at the fresh syringe, a small baggie filled with both heaven and hell, and all the things she would need it was a feeling of deep sadness that she didn’t have her customary rig sitting beside her. She reached for the bag but her hand just hovered paralyzed above she was hoping that some angel would intervene some helping hand of a higher power would give her the strength and courage to turn away before it was to late. Karen’s smiling face flashed in her mind and she could here her soothing voice reassuring her that everything would be okay that she was stronger then she knew. The voice faded it was the ringing of her cell phone that broke her trance. Jasmine looked down and took her phone in her hand. It was Karen calling some miracle was just performed a higher power had been listening and had sent an angel in the form of Karen. Jasmine broke into tears before she even answered the phone relief and strength was coursing through her veins. Even that insatiable hunger that could be masked, controlled, but never truly killed seemed to be losing its power on her. She answered the phone the tears streaming down her face and sobbing she had wanted to shout Karen’s name but the voice on the other end of the phone was not Karen’s but a mans voice that she recognized but could not place. Jasmine may not have immediately known the voice but she could feel the grief and overwhelming sadness in it.
“Jasmine?” It was a muffled sound heavy with tears.
“Yes.” She had wanted to say more had even begun to if only to herself. Who are you and why Karen’s phone. But before she could gather a thought the voice the messenger of doom spoke.
“Jasmine.” It was an old pet peeve but it drove a dagger through her just the same to here her name repeated like that. “It’s Bryce Karen’s husband. I believe we met at our 4th of July picnic a few years back.” There was a pause as he waited for an acknowledgment of sort and there had been one a nod on the other side of the phone seen only by Jasmine’s own reflection in the mirror. Her hand had already started to move towards the rig that lay before her fear and desperation growing in her stomach. All of the strength and courage drained from body, mind, and soul. “I’m sorry to contact you like this but Karen always spoke so highly of you and I know she cared a great deal for you.” His voice seemed to be growing strength in preparation for what he had to say but still the undeniable sense of pain and loss was there. “Karen’s had a relapse, she over dosed they were able to revive but fear not in time. She’s been in a coma for the last several days and the doctors tell me there’s nothing left to do other than say goodbye. They won’t leave her on life support they’re going to pull the plug on her tomorrow.” Tomorrow came out in a wet gulp as all the strength he had mustered up was exhausted. “The service will be held on Saturday and I know it would mean a great deal to Karen if you would be able to make it.” There was a silence then between them that seemed to stretch for an eternity. “Jasmine? Are you there?”
There it was again that repeating of her name that for no reason known to her filled her with a rage even stronger then the sadness she now felt or even that ever gnawing temptation of her waiting mistress.
“I, I, I’ll do my best.” The worst were more whispered then spoken. Her free hand clenched and relaxed clenched and relaxed and began drifting with more than just lazy speed but true determination towards the baggie. Seasoned fingers flicked it open and for now she was on auto pilot her hands moving free of thought just doing what they had known they were always made to do. “I have to go now Bryce I’ll look for you on Saturday. I’m so sorry for your loss.” The words were meaningless she had no intention of making the drive half way across the state to attend the funeral. She didn’t wait to hear his reply just simply ended the call and let her thoughts go. She hated Karen at that moment it was her Jasmine that needed help and guidance now and her sponsor the woman who had always given her so much support and strength had given into her own demons after fifteen or more years and what had all of that sobriety done for in the end. Not a damn thing. Her hands had continued there mindless preparation first to cooking and then to filling the syringe. It was only as she looped the tubing around her arm that she began to wake from the trance. She noticed the old feeling of anticipation as the needle entered her veins just a moment longer and I’ll be floating and falling she thought. In just a moment I’ll be home.
In the weeks from her relapse to the night of her first meeting in more than a year she had rediscovered her love of the drug and freedom in which it empowered her. She had taken on more sexual partners in the last few weeks then she had in the entire four and half years of her sobriety. She allowed herself no time to grieve for her lost friend instead she found only comfort in the high and the company in which she kept while theses strangers journeyed together through the murky waters of oblivion.
“Need a smoke? I’ve got a fresh pack here so long as you don’t mind menthols.” He spoke with a certain kindness Jasmine had not expected the words came flowing from his lips in a smooth and soothing cadence.
“You startled me.” Jasmine gave a nervous laugh she had been so caught up in her remembering she hadn’t noticed she wasn’t alone and the strangers calming voice had disarmed her and reassured her. “Thank you and no I don’t mind menthols prefer them actually.” She couldn’t help but smile as she reached out and took a cigarette. She didn’t even notice that he never lit on himself just left it dangling from his mouth.
“Hey listen don’t take this the wrong way. It’s just I know how hard it can be especially the first few days. Just hang in there you can beat this you can recover.”
“Thank you.” Jasmines own voice sounded weak in comparison to the man standing before her. He looked so familiar in one way and a complete stranger in another.
“Are you new here? Maybe I can help set you up with a sponsor.” His voice continued in an almost hypnotic way that seemed opposite of the glow in his eyes. Jasmine seemed to sense a deep malice in those eyes but rather than be frightened it only served to make her feel more comfortable with the stranger. Even though the topic of a sponsor had sent needles through her heart she managed to be polite as possible in hopes to abandon that particular request.
“Yeah, moved here a few months back.” She couldn’t say why she answered or why she even continued the conversation. Deep in the back of her mind and alarm had begun but it was one she couldn’t make any sense of. It was if something deep inside her was warning her of an iminement danger that she could not perceive. He had startled her earlier not because of he was menacing but because she had thought she was alone and was surprised to find she wasn’t. She was realizing though that the two of them were alone now and it was something about this that was working in unison with the internal alarm that continued to sound deep in her mind. “Thank you for the offer. I know its important but I’m going to go to a few more meetings before I really start looking.”
“That’s not a reservation I hear is it.” He smiled and chuckled and she smiled back. It was just the sort of casual laugh about something not really funny or amusing but it was genuine all the same. Her response did not matter he had gathered the last bit of the information he wanted. She was a stranger in a strange place she would not be quickly missed she had become chosen. It was time now to disengage and drift back into the shadows, he could sense the others would be coming soon and rather than chance someone seeing any more of him it was time to leave. “Well I’m sure I’ll see ya around. Take care of yourself and remember one day at a time.” With a wave he began to melt back into the darkness leaving no trace of himself behind.
“Take it easy too.” Jasmine managed to say as the strange man with the soothing almost hypnotic voice left her alone. Just as the alarm in her mind had begun to warn her this new feeling that crept over her was pushed aside. As the doors behind her opened up and she could hear the voice approaching she started towards her car aware that she was once again no longer alone. It was a simple thought and an odd realization that she wasn’t quite sure why she even made it that the stranger had left her in the exact moment as the others had come out. He was just drifting away into the darkness she could only make out his figure because she had known he left in that direction. It was odd and unnerving to her that it seemed this had been his intention all along. But the thought went as quickly as it came and she found that once she reached her car the thought was gone entirely and forgotten completely except for that part of ourselves where unremembered things go to wait and with it so had gone the internal alarm.
*Rough Draft*
Short Stories
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I love your concept! I think it was really cool that you wrote about an addict and the struggles that addicts live their entire lives. I also really loved the voice you choose to write the antagonist(hunter?) in, using predatory words like a zoologist would talk about a lioness on the hunt. there was also a lot of detailed and very specific prose that is just straight up beautiful. I had a professor who always told my class that the more specific details you give, the more relatable and universal a story becomes, and I think you have captured that idea here. Since you stated that it was a rough draft, I just wanted you to be aware of run-on sentences when(if?) you start making revisions. If you have trouble with figuring out where a comma or period should be used, I always recommend to read your work allowed, and where your body naturally takes a short pause to add a comma there, and a period where longer pauses happen. It really helps with pacing. Thanks so much for sharing this story at such an early stage in its creative process!