Gaudy. Tacky. Unfinished. Trashy. The words swam circles through Campbell’s mind as she stared blankly at the ceiling of her trailer. The aging, dingy ceiling. Her mother’s voice ricocheted from every nook and cranny, filling her with even more overwhelming anxiety. Disappointment. Failure. Disgrace. Embarrassment. The words kept coming, growing in number and showing no signs of relenting. A cold sweat broke out across Campbell’s forehead, and she lifted an ivory wrist to wipe it swiftly away. Turning onto her side, she drew her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, doing her best to convince herself that she was fine. After all, it had only been 7 hours since she’d last righted herself- last given in to temptation; given in to release. Her stomach lurched as the seemingly never ending loop in her brain shifted into a new backdrop. This time, instead of hyper-focusing on the downfalls of her new environment, she found herself staring down the man who had upended her entire life- the man who had stolen everything from her, and then some.
Screams filled Campbell’s ears, fogging her mind and only further tightening the ever-present knot in her body’s core. She could feel herself struggling against now invisible restraints, her own choked screams devolving into sobs as she fought the against the thought that there was nothing she could do. Clasping a hand over her mouth, She did her best to muffle a wail, knowing the walls of the trailer surrounding her were only paper-thin. Taking in a breath, Campbell had only a moment to lean herself over the side of her bed before emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the wastebasket beside her. Spitting, she ran the back of her hand across her lips, panting as she reached for the bottle of water resting beside her. “Goddamn it!” She screamed, her voice echoing in the silence around her.
Shaking hands reached for the top drawer of her nightstand, fumbling through the mostly-empty space until her fingers landed on the cool silk of a small, zippered purple bag. Pulling the parcel from its previous home, Campbell attempted to steady herself enough to open it, succeeding with a smile before pulling an unlabeled bottle from the small darkness. Twisting the cap, she closed one eye, peeking into the small circular opening, counting her stock. “Shit...” She muttered, tipping the remaining contents into an open palm. Two pills. Placing the pills as carefully as possible onto her nightstand, she pulled a knife from the still-open drawer, trembling as she placed one flattened side against the pills. In a small dance of twisting pressure until they were crushed into nothing more than powder, Using the knife’s sharpened edge, she guided the loose particles expertly into two glittering white lines, she deposited the knife back into the drawer before plugging one nostril and leaning forward.
Inhaling the powder provided a delicious, near-instant rush. Almost immediately, her hands ceased their trembling, and her stomach finally began to relax. Tipping her head back, Campbell sighed contentedly, shaking her head before closing the pouch and returning it to its home, slamming the drawer shut after. Standing, she ran her fingers through her hair and her hands over her top, attempting to collect herself before reaching into her purse. Pulling a crisp $50 bill from its front pocket, Cam slipped her feet quickly into a pair of flip-flops and made her way out of her trailer, heading towards the trailer of one Reg, the concessions guy.
