21st December 2021, Tuesday
Morning

Jasper tried to move his locked jaw, his wasting muscles knotted and excruciatingly taut, his pounding brain felt heavy and liquified, his eyes could barely stay open and his heart ached with every slow beat it forced.

He was back in the dreary abandoned hospital, outside the sky was a pale dull blue, thin grey clouds streaking across it, a crisp and abrupt late morning breeze seeping in through a deep hole in the grey operating theatre wall, the drained yellow coloured sunlight could not pierce the crawling chill he felt.

He tried to lift a hand to rub his temples but his bruised arms instantly felt like lead the second he raised them above his heart, dropping down to his starved sides. He swayed hazily as he sat upright, barely able to keep his head from falling against his chest, a few pieces of soggy cardboard drawn over his legs.

"Why the fuck was I born?" Jasper groaned with a harsh rasp, his throat scorched and mouth dry, as he fell back to lying across the frozen floor, pain shooting up his spine to make all the nerves in his body sting.

"Wish I could just drop dead..." he grumbled as his eyelids fell like heavy curtains across his dull eyes, cloaking his vision in darkness.

A snuffling sound filled his ears as scratchy needles of fur stabbed into his face, a flat and wide tongue licking his cheek, a strong smell of bacon rushed into his nose.

"No Cutie...let me die alone...I thought you of all people would understand..." Jasper muttered as he rolled onto his side, still half asleep, turning his back to the dog as he kept his eyes closed shut.

"Well, you're not a person but you know what I mean," he mumbled, the silvery mongrel dog persisted, pawing at Jasper's thigh with long claws in dire need of a trim raking into him as his dry nose poked at his cheek, his floppy ears perking up when Jasper opened his eyes and sighed.

"Fuck you, I'm up," Jasper spoke as he searched through his pockets, pulling out the same small plastic bag of crystal meth leftover from yesterday, crushing up half a gram's worth of crystals to a fine powder in his rough hands before quickly snuffing it up into his left nostril again, it burned as it went up and immediately sharpened the fog in his mind, electric energy shooting into his body-making him feel invincible as he sighed in relief.

"Okay, okay, now I'm fucking awake," Jasper said, a grin creeping onto his face as he felt his blood rushing in his head, as the mongrel whined lowly, putting his tail between his mangy legs and taking a few various steps back, Jasper dropped so he was kneeling, his teeth feeling as if they were vibrating in his stinging gums, like an angry wasp nest was housed in his mouth, his nose began to feel as if it had been doused in petrol and set on fire, Jasper smacked at his nose as if to put out the imaginary fire before suddenly and violently smashing his head into the floor over and over till blood dripped out of fresh cuts on his face and flowed from his nose and mouth.

"I can do anything!" he proclaimed loudly with a boom.

He threw his head back and licked at the blood, biting back a manic smile as he snapped his head over to Cutie with enlarged pupils.

"D-did you know that I-I relapsed onto this stuff a month ago? Be-before that I'd been clean for about a week, done crack instead, I wouldn't call it a relapse though because I'm a special kind of user, I just can't get addicted because I can stop whenever I want, I've got high tolerance, y'know? Good self control, good fucking self con-fucking-trol," Jasper rambled, speaking so rapidly that he stumbled and stuttered over his words, only breaking eye contact with Cutie to scratch at his face.

"I mean I've been cutting down, I'm only doing  a quarter of a gram of meth in the morning and half a gram of heroin in the evening, before I used to do two grams of each daily when I had the flat with Nic, I'm not a morning person so the meth h-helps me wake up and the heroin helps with my insomnia so I can fall asleep-I mean sure it's alternative medicine or whatever but it works for me," he continued, the dog watched him carefully as he paused to sniff up the blood running from his nose.

"That's why I'm different-drugs work for me. Addicts are enslaved by drugs, but not me, I am the drug master," Jasper proclaimed proudly, grinning ear to ear as he wiped at his sweat and blood soaked face, "drug master...masturbator," he giggled.

"Fucking itchy skin," he snapped with chattering teeth as he clawed hard into the palm of his shaking hand, his head twitched suddenly.

"I'm really good at avoiding comedowns, I haven't had one in about two weeks, as I start coming down off crystal I just do some heroin and vice versa-I'm so fucking smart!"

"Stop watching me talk!" Jasper screamed at a hallucination of a shadowy figure, picking up a brick and hurling it weakly at the wall in front of his feet, it smashed to brittle pieces when it impacted the wall.

"Got you," Jasper said, giggling as he threw another brick at the wall which then fell to the floor with a loud clatter, "how'd you like me now?" he continued, now laughing louder.

"Ok, now that's done, let's go panhandling," Jasper stated, as he pushed himself up to stand he crumpled back down when his head immediately began to cartwheel intensely, his eyelids curtained over his eyes so that they were barely open for a few seconds before he was woken up slightly by Cutie whining loudly.

"Shut up," he groaned as he rolled onto his side, sweat pouring down his skinny body, "shut up!" he screamed when Cutie remained pacing around him, Jasper lunged out with his foot and the mongrel hastily scampered away.

He picked up his plastic water bottle from his side, unscrewing the lid and tipping it over his head so a stream fell down his face, washing away the blood and sweat away, water trickled into his bone dry mouth, running down his throat like sand and causing him to start coughing, falling forward as he hacked up water and bile, which mixed in with the puddle of blood and sweat under his red face.

Jasper gulped in a massive breath of air as he stopped hacking a few minutes later, head swimming and black dots floating in his blurring vision as he collapsed backwards, flat onto the floor with his arms and legs splayed outward, as his heart pounded rapidly in his chest and sweat poured down his face he struggled to keep breathing, his eyes rolling backward and forward as he stared blankly into nothingness, his skin still crawling and gums itchy, his teeth felt like foam and his nose still burned.

Cutie nuzzled his nose under Jasper's sweat soaked arm, Jasper's eyes shot open and he quickly, mumbling incoherent rambles, half-limped and half-walked out of the abandoned hospital, ambling between weary and burned out strangers, as he took his place between two white marble pillars of an expensive fashion store that had a lingering smell of rose and lavender, his lanky legs sprawled out in front of him and hands limp by his sides, where Cutie curled up beside him, resting his grizzled head on Jasper's lap, besides the plastic cup Jasper had pulled out of a bin.

As his eyes fully closed, his vision turning to black, all he could hear was his heart beating like a maniac and his blood rushing around his body, his body felt hollow, he felt like he was being pinched out his being and lifted upward, as he started to feel weightless and enveloped in warmth he lost all feeling.

When he became full awake the sky was a murky blue colour, the stars hidden by a thick layer of smog, as his numbed senses whirred into action he became aware of his clothes sticking to his sweat drenched stick-figure like body, his heart wrenching with excruciating agony, causing him to grimace in a twisted snarl, grabbing at his heart as the mongrel looked up at him with wide mahogany eyes.

Fuck...fuck, my head hurts. A lot.

I'm surprised that crystal didn't even kill me. My heart is so fucked, my head is so fucked-I am so fucked. How am I not dead?

My whole body aches...no, it doesn't just ache. It feels like all my nerves are burning and stinging. My stomach is convulsing...I want to cry and I don't know why, I wonder how long I have left?

Jason groaned, his spinning vision settling as he petted Cutie's scratchy silver fur, he pulled himself to his feet, his heart feeling like it was being squashed and shrivelled to dust, he kicked at empty bottles and shards of glass as he picked up his plastic cup and saw one stained £10 note, two crinkled £5 notes and some loose change.

Suddenly he felt the pit in his nauseous stomach churn and tear into a gaping void, he felt as if he had suddenly become engulfed in a black hole, clawing to try and escape it. His heart began to palpitate chaotically and vision spin again, he felt tiny and as if he was sinking, he gripped and clawed at the floor beneath him, not aware of anything in his void.

A pink pram wheeled by a dishevelled and disassociating Jasper, a vacuous and well dressed lady dragging her young daughter forcefully by her arm as she grabbed to to reach the mongrel's fur, her cries to pet the animal falling on deaf ears as Cutie barked, waking up Jasper enough to find the strength to clamber to his unsteady feet.

Suddenly Jasper's vision returned to him, his eyes rolling back into place as he slammed back down into reality-a fuzziness running down his spine as he took in a sharp breath, his heart and muscles relaxing as he felt a chill against his skin and the faint smell of roses and lavender wafted into his nose and make his dry mouth sting.

Cutie's tail wagged as Jasper shuffled across the dark and shadowy streets, heading into a well-lit supermarket, his head swayed and he could barely stand as he leaned against the aisles, other customers quickly moving away from him, he exited the shop a few minutes later, throwing a patiently awaiting Cutie a packet of ham and then limping down the street toward his heroin dealer's motel room, leaving Cutie to make his own way home-as Jasper glanced over his bony shoulder he saw Cutie pad down an dingy alleyway and out of his sight.

That dog is my fucking lifeline. He a must-have when I'm panhandling, always bring in the big money.

Fuck...I bet he probably kept me alive when I was in and out of consciousness whenever that was...how long was that?

Feeling a craving for cigarettes he pulled out a pack which he had stolen from the supermarket, quickly lighting up and taking a long drag as he leaned against the brick wall behind him, underneath the sickly jaundice glow of the street lamp outlining his scraggy figure, his twirling head was foggy as he fought the urge to collapse, a lump forming in his dry throat and feeling like he had to breakdown in tears, obsessively counting and recounting the money he'd collected panhandling minus the expenses of buying Cutie food-£24, an unusually high amount, plus the money he already had, brought up his total wealth to £46.

Wish I hadn't sold my backpack and guitar...I could've sold those for money now. Fuck.

As Jasper opened his puffy eyes, exhaling a stream of smoke that helped to somewhat calm his nerves, his heart finally beginning to slow as the harsh freeze of late evening hit his cold skin, his teeth began to chatter and arms tremble as he saw a group of three hooded teenagers stalk over to him.

"What do you need?" Jasper asked brusquely, the harsh yellow light above his head emphasising the pitch black shadows encapsulating his sunken in eyes.

"All we need is cigarettes and alcohol," the one in the middle and a step upfront stated, his voice low as he carefully watched Jasper, eyeing him like he was an unstable psychopath-which Jasper found almost amusing, laughing to himself.

Is it a crazy situation?

"Okay, what am I buying you?" Jasper questioned.

"We want two bottles of vodka and three packs of Marlboros, we've got the money and an extra £10 for you," the boy said, from under the shadows cast by his hoodie the boy's blue eyes glistened with a dark intensity.

A few minutes later Jasper limped out of the local supermarket, inside a plastic bag was three packs of Marlboros cigarettes and two bottles of clinking vodka, Jasper handed the ringleader the bag and the boy handed him a slightly torn, but still usable, £10 note.

A total of £56. That's enough for half a gram of heroin, which is £24, a quarter gram of crystal, which is £20, and even half a gram of ketamine, which is...fuck it's been a while since I brought ket...£10, I think, with £12 left over to buy a crack pipe. He's got loads to spare, plus I'm a loyal customer so I might even get it for free.

I'm winning at life, suck my dick world!

Jasper kicked up a stray flyer for a local strip club as he limped down the street, passing shadier and shadier characters as he done so-he picked up a needle from off the floor which, apart from a little dirt, seemed relatively clean, which he then stored in his pocket.

He soon found himself back in the same old place, sucking on his ninth cigarette. It stank of cheap booze, squashed cigarettes and despair. As he stood in front of the door, fixating on the dark grain of its sodden surface, he overheard a middle aged man in a smart business suit calling his wife and telling her he would be working overtime before walking into a motel room where a scantily clad dominatrix stood in a spiked bra, black suspenders and a whip, white powder around her running nose.

Jasper turned his attention back to the door, under the gap between it and the floor a faint smell of burning and acrid bitterness. The door was number fourteen, the four in its number was chipped, the wood was splintering in places and in between the cracks in the pavement in front of it weeds crept upward.

As a black crow took off above his head Jasper felt his chest tighten and his eyes well with tears as his legs caved in, his cigarettes dropped from his fingers as he covered his face, crumpling in front of the door as tears poured from his misty eyes, his hands slid down the bumpy surface of the door as he started to weep, hugging his knees up to his chest as he rested his back against the door, hanging his head low as he dug his chewed up nails into the back of his greasy scalp.

His chest rattled as he sobbed, pitiful tears flowing to the pavement in sorrowful puddles, his eyes screwed shut and face twisted in tormented anguish as he dug his nails deeper and deeper into his scalp-desperate for the physical pain to relieve the mental pain that felt like it was tearing his soul in two and rubbing salt into the wound.

After he had cried so much he had no more tears left he was left with red eyes, stained cheeks and a wet jumper collar as he cradled his knees closer to his chest, pathetically biting on his kneecaps to try and inflict some kind of pain on himself-his mind felt black and his heart felt dead.

I'm a fucking parasite, I wish I had never been born!

I can't even escape myself, I keep trying to escape myself but I'm left with an even worse version of myself every fucking time.

Jasper flopped weakly onto his side, eyes dry and stinging as pain needled every fibre of his being, his heart ached and strained as air was forced into his tar slathered lungs, his stomach knotted and twisted and burned horrifically as he let out a silent scream of pure pain, smacking his hands in front of his face so nobody could see his shame and he could once again disconnect from his desolate bleakness.

When Jasper opened his eyes the sky was pitch black and the moon was a blurry silver in the sky. His skin was frozen and his muscles were shaking uncontrollably, his head felt disengaged and loose as he stood up and faced the door.

Tomorrow...tomorrow I get clean. This is the last time.

He knocked on the motel door, going through the same routine again. Saying the hellos, making awkward small talk as Hayden fished out his stash of heroin and ketamine and broke out the amount as well as a well used crack pipe Jasper needed before bagging it and Jasper handed Hayden the money, before leaving in disconnected blur, a faint excitement from scoring coursing through his veins as he snorted a key of heroin-just enough to kill the brutal crystal comedown.

Except it wasn't excitement. Not really. Because now he didn't get high off crystal meth and feel invincible and have paranoia as a side effect. No, now he got high off crystal meth and felt paranoia and energy bursts that twisted into angry outbursts and felt invincible in the sense that he'd simply never die and keep living out his pathetic strung out days forever and ever and ever.

It wasn't a high when it simply numbed the perpetual low.

He didn't want drugs to get high, not anymore-those days were long gone for him. He simply needed them to stop feeling low.

His heart and soul were hollowed and drained, his body barely able to drag itself back, his emotions were muted and numbed-his entire existence was grey.

When he slunk back to the abandoned hospital, slipping under a barrier of red and white tape he didn't remember ever being there before, he felt a gruff voice call out to him from the darkness.

"You can't stay there! We're knocking it down tomorrow!"

Jasper didn't react-he simply kept walking into the decaying skeleton of the hospital, just another skeleton himself.

Knock it down. Knock it down with me in it. Just fucking destroy me along with it. Kill me.

Once the builder threatened to call the police Jasper begrudgingly limped off, finding a small nest in an pungently grotesque alleyway of squalor where rotten food was going mouldy, alive rats cannibalised dead rats and where Jasper faded seamlessly into it with his frayed and torn jumper that dwarfed his emaciated frame.

He closed his tired eyes that ached from crying buckets, lying out of sight in the glacial shadow a skip full of gone off food scraps, his back against a slimy wall, feeling his heart rate start to slow as the tingling feeling of euphoria began to make him feel like he was floating on a fluffy and perfect cloud as he slowly flopped his limp hand around in his pocket checking the rest of his belongings-his half gram of heroin, his quarter gram of crystal, his half gram of ketamine-all were in place. Jasper ran his fingers down the smooth and charred surface of his crack pipe which protruded awkwardly from his other pocket.

As he drifted off to sleep he felt a familiar wet nose poke it's way under his nose before a small and tired sigh sounded, a furry head resting on his lap as it licked Jasper's sore hand.

Jasper put his other hand on the friend, his only friend, stroking up and down its sharp bristles of shabby silver fur, a small smile making his cracked lips curl upward in a meagre smile.

"I missed you, boy."

(Boom! Another chapter, anyone catch that Oasis reference to their single Cigarettes and Alcohol? I love that song, oh and I totally intended for that last line to be ironic because boy means heroin, well it means coke where I am but whatever, it's drug slang-next chapter should be up in a few days)