PART FIFTY THREE

                                                             ❝The sound rain.❞

I didn't believe, I could be a worse person than I already was. I proved myself wrong however. When Jack and I emerged from the bathroom, his cum still dripping down my legs. I scanned the room for my child. I spotted her, in another man's arms as he was bouncing her up and down. I reached for her. He pulled her away from me and I felt my body go stiff. Jack spun me around to face him.

"I have something for you." He said, as he drew something from his pocket. A small syringe, filled with what I recognized, as china white. I sucked in air. I did need a buzz, my daughter wasn't crying. Jack was right here. I sat back on the couch and extended my arm to him. He smiled, kneeling. The second I felt the pin prick of the needle my entire body relaxed. I sank against the couch.

"Holy shit." I murmered, as I let my head lay back against the enticing cushions. Jack smiled. it was then, that I saw the man who had my daughter walking toward me. He placed her in my arms and I watched her tiny face flicker in and out of my view. My arms would not hold her. I was high. Exteremly high. I reached across the cushion for Jack. His body felt cold. I pinched him on the leg and he turned in slow motion to face me. He was smiling, I smiled back at him. He took Evie's hand in his. 

"How you doin there girl?" someone's voice asked me from far away. I smiled.

"Fuckin missed this yo." I said, drawling my voice out. I felt the man who'd spoken to me lay something cold against me. It was a bottle, I could recognize the logo on it, Jack daniels. It was the type they had in bars. I grinned. He opened the top and I opened my mouth. Letting my eyes drift to his. I felt the familiar burn on my throat. Fuck. I tried to push Evie from my lap onto the couch. I heard her crying and I tried to move, It was than I felt the alcohol hit me. I was not sure how much I had drank. 

I lay sideways, pressing my face into Jack's legs. He was running his hands through my hair. I couldn't breathe. Until I felt my body sinking farther into the floor. I reached for Jack, he wasn't there. I reached for something to pull me out of the hole I was falling into. I was scared, My daughter was most likely on the floor. I tried, and this should go down in writing. to pull myself to her. To pick her up, to nurse her, to be a mother. But I couldn't. I sank back into the couch. Trying to let the drugs disolve me. I felt someone pulling on my shirt

I looked at Jack, he was still beside me, passed out. I glanced in front of me. To see the man who was now holding my screaming child. I could not hear past the blaring music, I could not see my daughter.

"Take her. I can't." I whispered.

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I woke up, on a filthy bed. Covered in dirt and with no clothing on. I grabbed for a blanket or a shirt. Or anything I could cover myself with. My head was throbbing and I spotted a pack of cigarettes on the floor, opening it revealed a half smoked American Spirit. I sank into the bed and let my eyes adjust. Jack, had been laying next to me. Wearing clothes. There were people scattered on the floor, on the beds. That's when it hit me. Where the fuck was my daughter. I glanced at Jack. It was only this time I saw her curled into his arms. I sighed scooping her out of his arms. She was breathing, and I'd never been more greatful to hear a heartbeat in all of my years watching people being revived by paramedics.

I located a pair of jeans, that were not mine and a beatles t shirt on the floor. I slipped them on and made my way to the living room. I was desperately thirsty and reached for the sink, only to realize there was no water. Pulling open the fridge I found a can of coke. I opened it and chugged. It was flat, and tasted like feathers. But I crumpled the can into the sink. The sun, was hurting my already splitting head. Evie stirred in my arms.

"Hey love." I mumbled. She looked up at me, and maybe it was because I was not sure what had happened, or because I was coming off of heroin, or because I was generally not one for things. I thought I saw a twinge of sadness in her eyes. Like she was worried. She was six months old and any doctor would tell you babies cannot feel mental pain. I found my phone, somehow unbroken underneath the stove. The time, was a whole 18 hours since I'd been awake last. I din't want to imagine how my child felt. Realizing momma wasn't there, she was hungry. I sure as fuck has not fed her. Not for eighteen hours at least. I grimaced.

"Come on kiddo, I'll make it up to you."

After changing her disgusting diaper I placed her in the truck. Fumbling for the keys which i had stupidly left in the ignition I placed my head against the steering wheel. Because could I be any more of a fuck up? If I'd known at the time the answer was yes, I would've driven head on into traffic.