A Self Righteous Suicide

         The look of horror was enough to make Jim throw up. He had never seen a man get shot, let alone be the one to pull the trigger………………… The asphalt was still warm beneath Jims palms as he picked himself up off the curb of the road. Another wave of nausea washed over him as he made his way back the car and caught a glimpse of the body in the ditch. What the fuck did I just do!!! Jims mind had been racing so much that the whole purpose of this gruesome act had escaped him until he reached the car door. Got to keep your head straight for just a little while longer, just a little while, just a little while, just a little while longer. Jim made his way back to the body. With a fresh purpose in mind he did not feel disgust as he did before. He reached underneath the dead mans lower back and quickly retrieved his wallet. He took out the bills and counted them. 600 dollars…. More than enough. Jim discarded the wallet while stuffing the money into his front pocket. As Jim cranked the car he noticed the adrenaline of the previous events fade as the old familiar chills and pains of withdrawal returned like an abusive demonic possession. By the time he made it to the on ramp of the interstate, the withdrawals were in complete control of his mind again. Just make it to Ronnies  house and everything will be o.k, focus, just focus, just focus, focus, focus, focus…..This became his mantra as he daydreamed of how fast the rush kicks in after injection, how all the pain and longing disappear as soon as the euphoria envelopes. The heavenly sleep it induces. But Jim knew there is nothing heavenly about it, only a near perfect glimpse the Devil gives you. Jim turned the radio up as loud as it would go without blowing the speakers. It did no good. The devils whisper was still in his ear.
         It was around 11o’clock when Jim arrived at Ronnies. His heart dropped with unbearable desperation when he noticed no car was in the driveway. He noticed the shaking in his hands were getting worse when he turn the ignition off. Goddamnit Ronnie, you were supposed to be here!!! Jim decided that Ronnies absence would not keep him from what he came for. Jim made his way up the driveway and almost to the porch when the pop and flare of a match coming from the unlit corner of the porch startled him, as though it were a gunshot.
    “Wherin the hell you been?” Ronnie said simultaneously lighting his pipe.
   

“I got held up. You got the shit?”
      “What’d you do steal old man Curtis’ car again” Ronnie loved to stall Jim, loved to watch him squirm.
      “ Look man, you got the shit or not!?”
        “ I just sold out, you should have made it he-” 
        “DON’T BULLSHIT ME!!!!”
Ronnie began to laugh, while tapping out the remains of the pipe over his shoe. “You getting too cocky, son. Now come on in and lets see if uncle Ronnie can’t help little Jimmy get over feeling sick” Despite his liking of Jim, Ronnie knew he was playing the part of Devils Advocate. If he didn’t get the stuff from me he would get it somewhere else, and there are some coldhearted motherfuckers out there. At least, this way I can keep tabs on him. Everyone in the drug world has an excuse for apathy.          Once inside Ronnies house, Jim sipped on a straight Scotch  Ronnie had fixed him. “ This Scotch taste like shit, man”. Jim was talking more or less to seem less of a junkie and more of a visitor. The comment fell on deaf ears as Ronnie was already at work measuring out the drug.
    “Why don’t you just divide the shit up into baggies when you get it”
    “ Just drink your drink and don’t worry bout how I run my operation, Jimmy my boy!” The truth was that Ronnie did measure out most of the drugs he sold, he just didn’t cut Jim’s, and he like it when Jim hung around. In  days gone past, Jim would hang around for a while and talk. Lately this wasn’t the case.
    “Look all done, are you sure you want twice as much as last time. I know you are good for the credit but I would really appreciate cash this time, I have obligati-, SHIT MAN ARE YOU O.K.!!!” Ronnie had finally gotten a good look at Jim in the light.
    “ Yeah, just had a rough day” Which at once was a lie and the truth. He had one of the worse days of his life but that wasn’t what was causing his symptoms. His nose was running. His legs felt like melting rubber. Every muscle in his body felt as though it were starving.
    “ You sure you are o.k.”
    “ Yeah, just give me the shit”
    “ You got any money? I don’t mean to soun-”
    “ Here.”    Ronnie counted it out quickly. “ This is enough to cover this and what you owe me. Where did you get this much mo-”
    “ Don’t ask just GIVE IT TO ME!”
    “ Alright here!”
Jim took a quick glance at it. “ You mind if I shoot up in your bathroom”
    “ Goddamn, son last time you did I thought you O.D’d. You stayed in there for three hours.”
    “ I’m just going to take a small taste.” Ronnie knew a small taste was not in a junkies nature but decided it was better to let him do it here than in some gas station bathroom. “Go ahead.”
         As Jim walked through the bathroom door he heard Ronnie saying something else. His mind was too transfixed to pay it any attention. Jim had taken his kit out and began to arrange the items of necessity on the bathroom counter without thinking. He took the baggie from his pocket. This should be enough to last me. As Jim opened the baggie he felt a flush of embarrassment cross his face. This always seemed to happen when he was about to get off. He dumped about half of his usual dose into the spoon, paused to consider it, then added a little more. The zippo was struck and the medicine cooked, when Jim realized he couldn’t find his syringe. Fuck!  He looked in the case, but it wasn’t there. I know I had it, I just fucking saw it!!! He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to slow his mind. When he opened his eyes he felt his front pockets. Not there. He shifted his hands to his back pockets and felt the indention of the syringe. How in the hell-- He quickly pushed the thought aside and filled the syringe. He placed the syringe in his mouth, wrapped the rubber tourniquet around his arm and sat on the toilet. He pushed the needle in his vein with precision, pull the plunger back slightly until the bottom turned dark red. He paused for a moment to think, but no thought would come. He injected the poison. FINALLY! He released the tourniquet, withdrew the needle and leaned back. He felt the drug  working quickly, returning him to normal. He lit a cigarette from the still flaming zippo and inhaled deeply while extinguishing the lighter.
                   He was now completely immersed in a false heaven.  Jim took another long drag off the cigarette and held it in. As he exhaled the smoke slowly, he started to nod slightly. He allowed himself to day dream.
         Alicia Stevens awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. The alarm clock read 1:49 a.m. Can’t be; Jim should be home by now. She answered the phone.
    “Is this this Mrs. Jim Stevens.” Her heart stopped. This can’t be happening. She swallowed hard. “Yes”
    “My name is Officer Williams-- OH GOD NO! -- I am sorry to tell you this, but your husband has been in a car accident.”
    “ What!?”
    “He is being taken to the City Hospital”
    “Is he alive!?”
    “ Ma’am he was still breathing when the ambulance picked him up, but the wreck was pretty bad.”
         Jim didn’t remember how the wreck happened five years ago. He did remember waking up in an almost unbearable pain. His wife was standing next to the bed in tears. He started to cry himself. “What happened,? Why am I here?
    “You were in a bad accident.” Her voice seemed distant.
    “When can I leave?” He knew the question was going to have an answer that he didn’t want to hear, and from the pain he felt, Jim knew it was going to take a long time to heal.
    “The Doctor said that you have a severely broken right femur, your spine is bruised in your back, and your right collar bone is broken.”
         Jim was remembering this now as half dream, half realization. This was the first time in his life he had taken an opiate. The pain through rehabilitation would have been impossible to deal with if he had not the help of Narcotics. Alice had backed him 100% throughout the whole ordeal, even a year later when all the rehab was finished, but Jim insisted there was still pain and a need for painkillers. This went on for another three years until her patience and compassion ran completely out.
         The end of their marriage had come on a Friday night. Jims oldest son had a baseball game at 6 O’clock. He had been buying painkillers from drug dealers at this point, but was unable to find anything on this particular day, until one of his friends had found a hookup. The deal couldn’t happen until around 7 O’clock, so with shame in his eyes Jim told his wife he would be unable to go to the game.
    “What the hell do you mean you can’t make it, this is the third time you have pulled this shit!”
    “Look something has come up and I won’t be able to make--”
    “I know what’s going on. You’ve been moping around the house all day with your shitty attitude, which means you are out of those damn pills, and now that you have found some, you are going to blow off your own sons game, to go out to God knows where to buy them. Do you know how much it means to him to have you there.” Her words cut him deeper than anything in his life, and made him realize how deep his addiction ran. He was trying to fight it. OH, God! I’m trying baby! But I just need this one last time to taper off and then I’ll quit for good. I PROMISE! He couldn’t say the words, but felt he desperately needed to.
    “Please, Hon, could you explain to him that I will be there as soon as I can. Tell him I have something important to do.”
    “You tell him you selfish son of a bitch. I’m not going to try to explain to him how his Father can’t make it again. AGAIN!!!” By now she was screaming. “I tell you what, if you don’t make it to his game tonight we are THROUGH!, Do you here me? It’s over if you don’t go. I’m tired of you going through this shit every time you run out of those pills. It’s like you don’t even care about us anymore. You don’t care how it makes your children cry when you don’t talk to them, and ignore anything they say. All of this shit is going to end right NOW! Its pathetic the way you let those fucking pills run your life. You need help Jim. GOD!, can’t you see this or do you love getting high more than you love your fami--”
Jim slapped her hard across the mouth, and blood immediately began to trickle down the corner of her mouth. He felt he needed to. What she was saying hurt worse than any withdrawal pain, and he immediately felt a shame unlike any other he had ever felt. She stared at him, the look of surprise, rage, and a deep hurt across her face. This was the one thing she could not forgive him for. The one thing he swore he would never do.
    “GET THE FUCK OUT! Get out of the house, and get out of our lives for good!!! I never want to see you again!!! Do you hear me, NEVER!!”
         Jim left without saying a word, and never saw his wife or children again.
         Jim was unable to find any painkillers that night. What he found instead was Heroin and the beginning of the end of his life. Jim found in Heroin a new family, one that he could never disappoint again , but one that he would never be able to run away from.
         The intensity of the shot  was easing up, and Jim slowly sat upright on the toilet. The cigarette he had been smoking had slipped out of his hands and burn itself up on the tile in front of the toilet. Jim picked the butt up and threw it in the toilet and lit a fresh one. Jim stood upright and left the bathroom.
    “Bout’ time you made it out of there.” Ronnie was sitting in his recliner with pipe and drink in hand. “feel better now?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Grab a seat and shoot the breeze with an old pal.”
    “I’ve got things I gotta do.”
    “Alright then, don’t be a stranger.”
    “Bye, Ronnie.”
         Ronnie knew something was seriously wrong with Jim, something besides his terrible addiction. He better get that car back to Old Man Curtis before he realizes its missing.
         Mr. Curtis was a man of about eighty. Two things could be said of him, his compassion for  unfortunate people was only surpassed by his devotion to God. So it was no surprise to anyone when he met Jim, homeless and with no money he took him into his home. Mr. Curtis had given Jim chores around the house in return for his stay, and ignored the fact that Jim took things from the house from time to time. Jesus forgave and so could he. Besides, he never takes anything that has any real value. He never knew about the car.
         Jim drove to an old clearing in the woods not too far from the city. It was remote, and he liked to come here to get high. Jim turned the engine off and sat on top of the hood.  He took out his kit and once again arranged the items of necessity on the hood next to him. He took the baggie from his pocket, this time the embarrassment was not there. Jim dumped enough Heroin in the spoon to kill four people, paused to consider it and added a little more. The zippo was struck and the medicine was cooked. Jim filled the syringe, almost all the way, the way and placed it in his mouth and tied the rubber tourniquet around his arm. He pushed the needle in his vein with precision, pulled the plunger back slightly until the bottom turned dark red. With a tear on his cheek he paused a moment to think……
”For God’s sake son, don’t kill me!!”
    “I’m not, I just want your money that’s all--” The pistol went off accidentally and struck the man in the chest. Jim fell to the ground and began to heave violently. The man died instantly. “OH GOD,WHAT HAVE I DONE!!!!”
……..and injected all of the poison.
         The next morning the body of Mr. Thomas J. Curtis was found lying in a ditch with a single gunshot wound to the chest. Jims body was found three days later.

This, dear reader, is an extreme rough draft. I wrote this in about 2 hours time, and while there are many mistakes that need to be corrected, my regular work schedule prevents such corrections at this time. I would enjoy any feedback on this story.