It's the war that I started; And the war that I'll win (915 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.52 on 30 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Tigre (View user info) at 2004-11-30 05:19:02 EST
You ask me today how we met, and I couldn't tell you everything. If, however, you asked me what went through my mind, I could give you every detail.
That night, anything would feel good. Anything and everything was perfect. The loud techno music, the beautiful girls, gorgeous men. The hot air, and the thin cloud of smoke. Bliss.
When you first take the pill, you don't feel anything. Twenty minutes later it'll start to slowly creep up your thighs, and up your spine. You'll feel it in your shoulders, and your eyes will close for a moment. Your jaw clenches, and everything just feels right. The X makes you want to dance.
I remember seeing her, sitting alone on one of those metal fold-out chairs. She was dressed like she was going to the prom. A simple but elegant red dress to accent her curly brown hair. Needless to say, she was gorgeous.
We made eye contact for only a second, and she looked away, then to her lap. She was so out of place from the pierced and tatooed punks, yet nobody noticed her but me. Was she real? Why would she come here, of all places?
As I would later find out, her friend brought her here for a night on the town. Her 'friend' had done a few lines of coke in the bathroom, and forgot about her, leaving with a stud in a red convertible. Nobody's seen her since.
I made my way to her, keeping an eye out for any possible boyfriend. She pretended not to notice me as I made my way closer. I squeezed between two nearly naked goths, and stepped over a passed out drunk guy. She was even more gorgeous up close.
I gave her the smile that had charmed countless women before her. She blushed heavily, and pretended to look for something in her purse.
"What's your name?" I asked her, in a fake, almost Mediterranean accent. She stammered for a moment, and looked up at me,
"Rebecca."
"Rebecca is a beautiful name." I touched her hair without her noticing. It was ecstasy. Infact it literally was the ecstasy. If beauty was tangible, at that very moment that was it. I looked town at her, studying her face. Blue eyes, Roman nose, solid cheeks. "Would you like to dance, Rebecca?" She blushed again as I flashed my impeccable smile.
"I..I dunno. I don't really know how to.." Her face gave the impression she was saddened by her own response. I knew women, I knew she yearned to dance. I held out my right hand to her,
"Come now. I'll teach you then." She hesitated for a moment, and accepted. Those legs.. My God those legs. Smooth and powerful. She must run miles everyday. She stood to face me as I led her to an open spot on the floor. The lights flung to and fro, undeciding of where they wanted to land. Everyone erupted into cheers as one of the most famous techno songs came on; DaRude's Sandstorm. I looked down at her and grinned.
"What do I do?" She asked hesitantly, still holding my hand.
"Just trust me. Put your hand on my back." I led her other hand in mine to my back, and placed mine on her waist. "Step like this. To the side, then back, then forward, to the side.." I showed her how to do a slow waltz to Techno. Techno, rock, rap, Mozart, it's all the same while you're on X. It's even better when you're starting at the most gorgeous girl in the world, and you're holding your hand in hers.
Her hair, oh God her hair. It smelled sweet, but tangy, like fresh oranges. It bounced with ease, and just flowed. Perfect doesn't even begin to describe it.
Those lips, oh God don't get me started on those lips. They were perfect, unaided. No lipstick, no gloss. Perfect, natural lips. I strained to keep from kissing them.
It took me a moment to realize the song had ended. Another song ended. And another, and another. The crowd was dissipating, but my night was only beginning. Her cheek found my shoulder, and my nose nestled right by her ear. It was like the highschool prom, except for the smell of marlboros and Jack daniels that hung in the air.
No words were spoken since we had started dancing. We just stepped slowly in each other's embrace. Then we glided. Then we rocked back and forth. Then we stopped. I looked down at her, "It's getting a bit late.. You want to come to my house for a drink?"
She smiled and nodded. My God that smile. Don't even get me started on that smile.
My hands felt cold as we stepped apart to leave. A burly man with a beard and leather outfit made his way past me. We gave each-other the secret universal man-nod as I she followed me out the door. My car was one of the only ones left in the fine gravel parking lot. I looked around for a second to make sure it was mine. I parked my refurbished Trans AM right under the light. Yes, that was it. I ran my hand down my silk shirt and into my pocket, feeling the keys on my fingertips. She slipped her hand into mine as we made my way to the car. At that moment I decided I was going to marry this woman.
I bought my car from an old heroin dealer that needed money for lawyer fees. He tried to sell it to me before for five grand, and I told him no. He had called me from prison 7 months later, and told me he'd sell it for Three hundred. I almost shat myself.
It wasn't bad when I first got it, but when I was done fixing it up it was a dream. She purred like a kitten as she started, and you couldn't help but want to lick the custom upholstered naugahyde seats. I had a friend in leathercrafting, and I had forged him a few tools as a favor a couple years back. All new dash, XM radio, neon interior lights, LED headlighs. The works. With my connections, and my own shop it didn't cost me more than a grand to triple the worth of the car. Needless to say, I got all the chicks.
I could tell she was impressed with the car, but she didn't say anything. I ran my hands over the leather steering wheel, and started it up. There it was, the purfect purr. I let it heat up for a moment as I reached out and touched my hand to hers. I looked at her; Those eyes. God those eyes. Don't even get me started on those eyes.
The ride back was warm, whether it was the ecstasy or the air conditioning, I won't know. The streetlights were beautiful, so many colors just illuminating the streets. I slowed and parked into the gravel driveway, giving the car a moment to chill before I turned it off. I looked at her and smiled before I pulled the key from the ignition, "You ready?"
She nodded, a smile pursed on her lips. Her hair bounced once, and we climped out of the car. I breathed in once, and let out a mighty cloud of steam. Goddamn December.
"This way," I motioned with my hand as I made my way to the front of the house. I made a mental note to trim some of the branches on the rosebush. I opened the door and was greeted by my two dogs, Rosie and Phanta. Rosie was adopted, and was mentally retarded (not to mention obese). Phanta was quiet and subtle. She was a breeder, and was abused a few years back by her previous owners. They were busted by the feds for running an illegal kennel, and for massive cruelty to animals (these were people that took rubbing the dogs face in it's own feces too far). I introduced Rebecca to them both, and shooed them off to go lay down.
I took her up to my room, and showed her my bed. I'm glad I was always one to lead a clean lifestyle. Always keep the room clean and tidy, desk clear and shining, and my bed made with fresh linens.
"It's a beautiful house.." she said to me, looking around my room. She spied the face of sean connery I had pinned up on my ceiling a decade ago, pointing to it, "What's that?"
"Sean Connery," I replied smoothly, opening the mahogany liquor cabinet I had made a few years ago. "I pinned him up ten or eleven years ago. It's pretty fun to lay on my bed after some acid. He starts talking to me, telling me about his years in the scottish wars, how to make knives. All that good shit. You want a drink?" She looked at me strangely for a second, and nodded,
"Mhm." She was so petite. Her hands folded in her lap, her shoulders broadened. I've got to marry this woman.
"You never told me your name." She said casually, watching me pour two glasses of cognac. I turned around, one in each hand,
"Aaron. Born to Bill and Tracy, Son of Sir Michael of Whales, Son of Sir Edgar of London, Son of Si-" she was thrown into fits of girlish giggling. She was obviously impressed by my heritage. I sat beside her on the bed, leaning over to smell her hair. God the smell of her hair. Don't even get me started. She sniffed the glass once, her eyebrows furrowing for a second,
"What is it?"
"Cognac. Try it, you'll like it." I took a sip to reassure her. It went down smooth. Crisp, tasty. At Two hundred and eighty bucks a bottle it'd better be good.
She took a slow sip. Then another. Then a much longer one, finishing her glass before mine.
"It's really good.." She said, wiping a few drops from under her lip. "Do you have anything else?"
I was beginning to wonder if she was such an innocent little girl.
"Yeah, gimme a second." I stood, running my hands on the sheets as I did so, making my way to my dresser. I gingerly pulled from the top drawer a glass plate, a razor and a plastic baggie of cocaine. I looked at her to see her impression. I don't know if it was the X fogging my vision, but it was a mix between surprised, afraid, and curious. The look in her eyes..Don't even get me started on those eyes.
I set the plate on the bed next to her, pulling out a slim coffee table that I leave pressed up against the wall. I sat down with my back against the bed, and motioned for her to do so, "Set the plate here."
I opened the baggie, gently dumping the contents of it onto the plate. "You ever do coke?" I looked at her with my signature smile. She shaked her head no, her hair bouncing side to side. I smiled again for a moment, gently brushing the few locks from her eyes back behind her ear.
"You wanna try it?" She hesitated for a moment, looking into my eyes. She nodded slowly,
"Theres a first time for everything."
She was a keeper. I broke up the clumps with the corner of the razor, starting to cut it up finer and finer, separating it into thin lines, about to inches long. I patted my khakies for a second, then my breast pocket. I took the pen I always keep handy and opened the top end, tapping out a cut plastic straw.
"Just incase." I said with a smile, grinning at her. "When you do it, just keep calm. Everything will feel really good. Don't freak out. I'm here. Lemme show you how quick." I adjusted myself on the floor, and leaned over the edge of the table, placing the straw into one of my nostrils. Covering the other, I snorted quickly, smoothly, inhaling the sweet sweet columbian nectar.
I breathed out through my mouth, "ggHAAah." I sniffed, rubbing my nostril quickly. "Ready?"
I handed her the straw, "Just like I showed you." She bent down close, setting the edge of the straw by the line. She pressed her opposite nostril closed, and the straw in the other. She inhaled in a less fluid motion, almost choppy. She forced it down, not allowing it to enter her nose; Bad mistake.
She coughed for a few second, as I patted her back. She wasn't wearing a bra.
"I gotta go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." She weezed, sniffing quickly as she made her way up and out of my room.
"She'll be fine.." I muttered to myself, trying to reassure my own mind. I looked around the room. Everything lost it's edge. Everything was blurry, as if it had been coated in a loose fuzz. The fuzz crept it's way from my walls, and slowly towards me and up into my spine. The room melted for a second, and solidified. I craned my neck and looked up at my old pal sean on my ceiling. He gave me a big stupid grin, and a wink.
"'Ow'yea doin' ole' boy?" He seemed to say in his thick scottish accent. Smooth and sexy.
"I'm good.." I told him. It came out more like "Ayble looode". It was about then I heard a crash. It wasn't as much of a crash, as it was a series of quick thumps. I yelled, figuring it was the dogs playing tag again, "Settle down! HEY! Settle down!" It stopped for a few moments. I looked at my clock, 3:36. I kept staring as the numbers melted, and reappeared into a 4:17. I always lost track of time staring at things while I was on coke.
The thumping came back. Then a smash and a shatter. Damn dogs must be getting into the pots and pans again.. Or it was an intruder. Who thinks rationally on coke, anyhow? I opened the top drawer in my dresser and pulled out my luger, stuffing it into my khaki pockets. I looked around the corner into the hallway. The bathroom light was on, and I heard another smash. It was coming from upstairs.
I ran down the hall and saw what horrified me, what killed my high. Rebecca's face was covered in blood. The mirror that hung on my wall was smashed to pieces, some of them embedded into her bloody knuckles. She was laying inside the tub, all but her lower legs in a giant bloody heap. She was breathing heavily as her chest pulsated. Her feet shook, and it was then that I noticed the smaller toe on her left foot was dangling, almost falling off.
"How the fuck.." was all that I managed to get out before she unleashed a half choked scream. I took another two steps inside, and placed my palm under her left breast over her heart. It was racing. It was racing, and it was getting faster, and faster. Her face was becoming redder and redder. I watched it, and she lost the color. The beating stopped and the bleeding slowed. Two little granules of cocaine dropped from the corner of her nostril onto the floor of the tub.
I pushed myself away from her, standing up.
"No.. No.. This isn't happening.. NO.. NO NO NO NO!" I grabbed my hair, my hands gripping as hard as I could, pulling out a fistful of hairs. I punched the unpainted wall where the mirror once hung.
"This isn't real!" I screamed at her body. Her pale, limp, lifeless body that was lying in my tub.
"This isn't real! Quit doing this! Wake up!" I slapped myself reapeatedly over the cheek. I slapped myself until the blood mixed with my tears. I fumbled for the gun that was tucked in my pants pocket. I looked down at her. I looked at her hair, her lips, and that roman nose. I pulled the hammer back.
"If this is the only way to wake up from this fucking nightmare.."
The last thing I tasted were the salty tears that ran into the corner of my mouth. The last image I ever saw was her, the most gorgeous girl I had ever laid eyes on. The most innocent girl whom I had made unclean, and impure. The last thing to run through my mind;
"I gotta quit the coke."
User Reviews
Submitted by Falconer (user info) at 2005-01-26 17:58:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Ed_0150 (user info) at 2005-01-09 03:33:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-12-09 11:00:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Yay! <3
Submitted by lojope (user info) at 2004-12-09 10:45:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
wow
Submitted by hollygolitely (user info) at 2004-12-09 01:18:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
NO MORE TIGREBURNS?!
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2004-12-06 04:16:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
heh, I can't believe people think you are Sideburns.
All anyone with half a brain need do is skim the threads of your posts and it's screaming obvious.
Submitted by JenBee (user info) at 2004-12-02 11:32:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
Like, wow.
I'm in awe of your awesomeness. Anyone who minus anything's this needs to be punched. Hard.
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2004-12-01 19:52:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great story.
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2004-12-01 10:22:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That was excellent.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2004-12-01 01:29:04 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
have another, you fucking whack job
Submitted by AsshOly (user info) at 2004-11-30 21:54:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking great! But you had a few typos, shit that you could have fixed if you just read through it before posting. Doesnt matter though, typos were the only thing I didnt like about this post.
But while the subject is up, I agree with Magirk. I had some problems with idiots on my posts yesterday dishing out -2's without reading. It bugs the hell out of me. I was about ready to quit last night.
All I want from this site is for people to read what I've written. I can get all -2's, but if you have comments for me regarding the post, I'll be more than happy to get them. This site is nothing more than an outlet for me, and a place where I can get my writing critiqued. Like Magirk said, maybe I'm asking for too much from Uber. I think if that's true, I wont be coming back very often.
Submitted by funkchomper (user info) at 2004-11-30 20:08:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sucked me in... bravo.
Submitted by Sideburns (user info) at 2004-11-30 19:45:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Paragraphs could have been easier on the eyes. And if you perhaps separate the conversations with spaces from the rest, it'd look better.
Besides that, great.
Submitted by CoachMagirk27 (user info) at 2004-11-30 17:04:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
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Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-28 04:40:52 (#)
Ranking: -2
I'm not concerned.
So I didn't read.
So I -2ed.
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Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-30 02:07:42 (#)
Ranking: -2
You wanna throw retaliation -2s bitch? I can play that.
Here, have one. I -2ed a shitty post. If you're gunna -2 a post of mine, do it for the same reasons.
Asshole.
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How would you know whether it's shitty or not... If you didn't read the godamn thing?
You minus twoed me... And you didn't read it. So I did the same.
If I'm an asshole, for this reason, surely you would be aswell... for doing the EXACT SAME THING.
I was demostrating a point... Don't be an ass to other people, because it's stupid and disrespectful to their work (yes, I know Uber isn't a place of respect... but all the same).
I spent a shitload of time for putting that together. It didn't bother me that you minus twoed it... It bothered me that you minus twoed it... And didn't even read it.
I actually tried to portray a message, aside from "LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME!!!". Call me a loser, call me a nerd, whatever I don't care. But it's important to me that people take it seriously when I'm actually trying to tell them something, even on Uber (maybe I'm hoping for too much?).
Notice that this isn't attached with a minus two. Why? Because I actually want to get through to you.
I hope I'm not wasting my time.
Reply on one of my posts, minus two me if you feel the need.
I'm sorry for childishly retaliating on your post. Unlike Fetish and Mang, I'm not here to make enemies. So why don't we chat?
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2004-11-30 12:11:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Critical_Mass (user info) at 2004-11-30 11:43:22 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by hollygolitely (user info) at 2004-11-30 10:26:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
schizophrenic
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-30 08:54:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
It's mostly a fictional story, based on myself. It was inspired by the stories of people ODing on coke. They tend to thrash around, breaking bones, mirrors, et cetera.
If you read back, I had a pretty bad trip with some laced weed awhile back, which also triggered the idea for the story. I'll be writing more about this at some point.
The picture is real, however. When I'm REALLY stoned, he does somtimes talk. I've had him up there for years.
I also have sideburns to thank, for taking me under his wing. *sniff*
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2004-11-30 08:32:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I had a feeling this would end in tragedy - but it was great all the same. Although, being my typical picky self, I am going to suggest you proofread a little more, there were a couple of minor mistakes in there. Most people probably ignore them, but they bug the hell out of me!
Keep up the good work.
Submitted by arcane (user info) at 2004-11-30 08:24:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I dont know how any one could give this a -2. I thought it was great. Good story man! Or if its somewhat based in reality, sucks to be you!
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-30 07:38:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-11-30 07:32:42 (#)
Ranking: 2
Ummm... Isn't it PCP that's called angel dust? I'm sure that you have a far more detailed understanding of the illegal drug scene (o.O), but I believe I recall hearing that somewhere. Oh well- cool story.
----
I think it can be called either or.. I'm not certain, it's been awhile since I heard definitively.
Submitted by Stin (user info) at 2004-11-30 07:35:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-11-30 07:32:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ummm... Isn't it PCP that's called angel dust? I'm sure that you have a far more detailed understanding of the illegal drug scene (o.O), but I believe I recall hearing that somewhere. Oh well- cool story.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2004-11-30 07:32:26 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-30 07:14:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
But of course there are no more than 2 posts between you dumbasses.
Please.
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-30 07:05:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Are you kidding me? So saying that is saying that Cocaine can only be called coke. Angel Dust for example is a non-existant term.
jackass.
Submitted by Ivy (user info) at 2004-11-30 06:59:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
It is called E but this was good so you can call it X if you want... I guess.
Submitted by klebe (user info) at 2004-11-30 06:50:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
its called E!!
but good one anyway
Submitted by triple_optics (user info) at 2004-11-30 05:50:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment!
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-30 05:44:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
..Yup