literature

Climb Again

Deviation Actions

Published: Mar 9, 2014

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Literature Text

Okay Jamie, so tell me about yourself, he said.

My counselor was a nice guy. Mark, I think that was his name. He was in his mid 30s, and had that caring, almost fatherly atmosphere about him.

What do you mean?

I really wasn’t sure what he wanted to know. I mean, he could glean everything he could want from a glance at me, my pallid skin, ashen lips, rotten teeth, thin hair, needle marks on my arms. Results from the addictions I kept feeding.

Well how did you get here?

Ah. I see. That's what everyone always wants to know.

That’s a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?

Well how long is it?

About...4 years long.

Well, it started a while ago. What did you expect?

How long would it take you to tell me about it?

Less than four years, I can tell you that.

Hahahah, yeah, I thought so. Go ahead then, take your time.
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It was my junior year of highschool, and it all began on the roof. There was a good number of students who knew the door to the roof was unlocked, only because they dared to open it, but only a handful were willing to actually go up there. After school one day, a Friday I think it was, about seven went up there, just to smoke a bit, hang out, the usual stuff. One of them was in my English class, a guy I knew pretty well, Daniel, and he was one who went up there regularly. He invited me just to chill with them, said that there was a girl who might be interested in me, and, hell, might pique my interest too. So I went with it, thinking that nothing bad could happen, that I might even get a (much-needed) girlfriend. I knew they smoked and they knew I didn’t so it worked out fine like that. I got up there and, man, it was great. The sky was all open and blue and the breeze would just ruffle the hair before retreating to whatever its destination was, always behind you. It turned out that they hadn’t been smoking cigarettes, like normal, but rather weed. Once I got up there, Daniel rolled one for himself and threw one to me. He knew I didn’t smoke, though, so I just shot a quizzical look at him. He paid it no mind.

It’s up to you, man. I know you’re not into this stuff, but I’m just giving you the choice, y’know?

Of course, I tossed the little rolled up bundle right back at him. He didn’t care or push it on me, he just threw it to Alice, the girl he had told me about. She was sitting over the ledge, legs dangling, stripping me bare with her eyes. She had, in fact, caught my attention. Of course, everyone had already gone home, the teachers had left by then, there was no one there to see her, but it still took sheer courage to sit over the edge of three stories so nonchalantly. I began to talk to her. She was an underclassman, but a cute one, and I liked her. I really did...

I enjoyed the time up there. Eventually, we left, but I was grateful for the serene respite from the crap I go through daily at school. I began to spend more time there. Daniel would always offer me a blunt whenever I got up there, and Alice would always be sitting at the ledge smoking a little green for herself. She was always so upbeat, yet introspective, and just pure joy to talk to. I often wondered if it was just the magic of the marijuana; I would ask myself if I could learn to be less tense or stressed out with a bit of smoke drifting from my lips. About a month or two passed before I actually took one of those bundles and lit it. It was nice. About half an hour passed before it really kicked in and that was just perfect because, by that time, the sun had begun to set. I actually sat down beside Alice this time (normally, I would just lie down about a foot behind her) and hung my legs over the edge to watch the hues of heaven paint the sky with her. Then something overtook me. I tapped her shoulder and, just as she turned, I pulled her into a kiss. The smoke around me gave me a power, a confidence that I couldn’t quite describe. So I didn’t.
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A couple of years passed, just like that, and fresh out of highschool, I was already one of the most unstable druggies you’d have ever met. Hash, speed, crystal, heroin, even some crack. I was... In a pit. No one would ever want kiss these lips anymore, no one would enjoy being wrapped in my needle-pricked arms. Alice had gone long ago. I was just alone, with my blue-hued pleasure in a needle and my white powder in my nose. I didn’t want this anymore. Never. Never. My family had given up long ago, but my mom still had hope in the pile of bones she had brought into this world, so I begged her to help. Thank god she did. I went to rehab, and I got clean. But only for a bit. I cracked the shell and entered my life, but the cravings would always be there. I lost the will to fight after a year, and the needle and lighter were so tempting...
　　
I fell.
I fell from the summit I had reached.
And I landed hard.
　　
I remember when I first set out to be clean, equally eager and daunted to climb the monumental mountain before me that was the ladder out of the pit of addiction.
　　
But I fell off the ladder just at the top.
I tripped, right at the pinnacle of the peak.
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So Mark, that’s why I’m here;
I fell.
　　
But I’m more than ready to climb again.