Holding onto Hope
Another day another Heroin addiction
It had taken a bit longer than planned to graft enough cash for a decent hit yesterday.
As per usual.
Some days you wake up with an earner in mind whilst other days you have no idea what you’re gonna do to scrape some cash together.
This was one of those days. Waking up from the previous night. For a minute working out where you are. Piecing the night together. What happened? My measure of success was how unconscious was I. If I had no recollection then it was a good night, it meant I’d smashed enough smack in me to tip me over into oblivion, my happy place.
Wasnt a great night which meant I needed to score soon or I’d start clucking. The fear of withdrawal strangled me and kept me ticking over like a 24-hour crime machine, anything to postpone that inner cold.
I woke up in Smokey’s flat. I’d not known him for long but he had a flat which was better than a shop doorway. Not sure how we met the first time but we got on. Both lost. Both searching. Both crave numbness.
He was a loose cannon. Broad shoulders, skinhead and a tired gaunt face. Another victim of the care system spat out and disregarded. We had the same relentless appetite for drugs.
We had no idea what to do. There was no master plan today just desperation.
One — we could do a til grab. I know a slow cashier or two in the town centre, so it wouldn’t be too much to do.
Two — grab some knives and let’s go to the petrol station round the corner. We don’t have to go far and we can score straight away.
Three — Let’s find somewhere to burgle.
Our irrational brains start processing and weighing up our options.
Finding a good place to burgle might take ages, we haven’t got the time. We need something soon. The petrol station could be a good earner but it’s not definite we’d get away. I know for sure the til grabs a good one, I’ve done them enough.
Til grab it is then.
We walk through the town with intent. There is a certain walk addicts have when they are on a mission. It’s a bright summer morning and here we are wrapped up in coats. You can tell by our pace we’re not messing about.
I’m rehearsing each step in my head. What I’ve got to do and where I’m going to go afterwards. I know the root out of town, away from any cameras. Driven by the need we park up around the corner. I’ll do it this time, I know which one to go to. Surprise is our biggest asset in doing something like this.
Grab a Mars bar and head for old dear. She’s been here too long. Sweet voice, is happy to help and has all the time in the world. She’s not rushing for anyone. Perfect for me so I can grab the notes.
I have that feeling in the pit of my stomach. Adrenaline beginning to bubble away in my veins. She’s taking ages today, One person to go then it’s me. It’s not busy, there’s no security and the doorway is free.
Let’s go.
I pass her the Mars bar, and she scans it and gives it to me back. My palms are sweaty as I pass her the quid. Time slows down as she presses a few keys before the magic sound of the cash tray hits my ears. It pops open, the notes are at the top of the tray. I want the purples and the browns as many as possible. As soon as I can see both.
I’m in.
Time speeds up and I’m grabbing all I can. She’s screaming at me as I pull away with handfuls of notes ready for my quick exit.
I’m off.
I’m dashing out the door as quickly as possible. Running through people like a demolition ball. I hear noise behind me, shouting but not enough to work out what was being said. Down the nearest alleyway and into the carpark. I used to be able to run a lot longer than I can now. I’m not in the best of health and right now my body needs some gear. I don’t seem to be getting chased. Smokey catches me up and we jog a little more before coming to a stop. I’m knackered.
Quick count of the cash. Hundred quid in tens and hundred and eighty quid in the twenties. Not bad for two minutes of work if you can call it that.
There’s a slight sense of relief between us but we know we’re not there yet. The next part of the mission is to find someone with gear. Sometimes it’s the first call and sometimes you’re waiting all day. Please don’t be one of those days today!
We compare numbers for a minute. Whose gear is shit, who rips us off and never gives enough? They get away with it most of the time because of the desperation. As long as it is in front of us we usually take it.
With a prayerful hope, we make the phone call, it’s tense. We’re in luck.
He’s holding.
Another part of the jigsaw was sorted. Now we need to find some clean works and some lemon. Can’t go back into town it’s too bait. The nearest chemist is another five minutes away. It’s never easy.
I’m getting cold whilst feeling beads of sweat all over me. Need to get sorted, need to get right. Will I ever stop feeling like this? It doesnt seem to matter how much I get, it’s never enough. My body aches and cries for more all the time.
It’s all falling into place. We are good to go. Were in an old unit. Smashed to bits. Debris everywhere. In the middle of the largest room is a sofa. Surrounded by plasterboard, lighting strips from the ceiling and old works scattered everywhere. Packets of citrus, old cans, cider bottles this isn’t the Hilton after all. Won’t be here long and we’ll be on our way.
We both fall back onto the sofa as we get what we worked for. The slow overwhelming glow that brings calm. My body begins to breathe again.
Better make the most of it I’ll be roasting again soon. One day I think my life will be different. I don’t know how but I’ll hold onto hope.
Lee M Hush
