#about crack

[buckpussy]

.

[domesticdragon]

{; I am not feeling my drafts. someone talk crack ships with me.

[adrian-mendoza]

♒

((Hey, so trigger warning:  I get kind of explicit with the drug use on this post so don’t read any of this if you have, like, a problem with crack or something))

1.  You need to leave me alone.

Walking back to his motel with the spacey waif who was started making a habit of showing up unannounced, Conner began to suspect Sarah was on something stronger than normal.  He’d just bought her a Dr. Pepper at the gas station and was noticing her level of alertness fluctuate quite a bit.  She could walk and talk just fine one second, but if she stood still she seemed to doze off.  

Sarah grabbed a few other random-ass nick-nacks from the impulse purchase area by the register; namely a tiny fake rose in a glass tube and a box of Chore Boy.

As was typical, Sarah had presumptuously invited herself over for “just a little while”, but that usually meant “at least several hours and probably overnight”.  They hadn’t fucked, even though she usually offered; Conner always declined, still hoping in vain that his relationship with Ashley could somehow be salvaged.  Besides, he’d never actually seen Sarah completely sober and he didn’t think fucking her when she was messed up would be appropriate.  He also didn’t want to encourage her to up the frequency of her visits … that was already happening even without him laying the pipe.

Sarah energetically entered the room and took a seat on the bed.  She became more sluggish as she opened her pop.  She slowly brought it halfway up to her mouth before practically nodded off, holding the bottle midair.  ”Sarah!” Conner exclaimed, jerking her awake before she dropped it.  It was amazing that she didn’t spill.

She was “just a little sleepy, Son” and “needed to smoke some crack”, if he didn’t mind.  

"Crack, huh?  What’s that like?"  He was unphased at this point, and would only start to mind if she was tweaking out like a stereotypical crackhead.  Sarah said it would help wake her up. “Fuck that.  I’m not hanging out with someone who’s smoking crack if I’m not also smoking crack.”  Curiosity had gotten the better of him. After taking a hit, Sarah had a sort of wide eyed, possessed look; even moreso than usual.  She sprinkled some onto a joint with weed, rolled it and handed it over.

Conner’s mouth went numb as he pulled in the smoke.  The effects were instant … and wonderful.  So wonderful that Conner knew he could never do this again; if he smoked crack tomorrow, he’d probably be on crack for the rest of his life.  The feeling was better than sex.

After smoking half of his joint, Conner decided it wasn’t a collaborative high and he wanted to enjoy the rest of it alone.  He set it aside for later.  He watched as Sarah continued sparking up every few minutes and got sleepy in between hits.  He didn’t ask what else she was on; he was worried she would tell him it was smack.  But the compulsion to finish the rest of the joint was insanely strong.  Conner glanced at it every few seconds, thinking about how awesome the first half had felt.  He finally couldn’t stand it anymore.  “You need to leave me alone.   Alone with my crack, Sarah.”