Charlie's Story

I liked being on my own, with my music, sketches and thoughts.  That was all I needed, well, except for Lex.  Lex understands.  He knows what’s in my mind, he sees more of me than anyone else could ever see – he can see inside.  He is my best friend and I hope we will be together forever.  It’s not anything sexual, it’s spiritual.  I believe we are as close to what some people refer to as soul mates as anyone could get.

I live on the outskirts of London in a shared flat with two other people: Nick and Simon.  I found their ad, I did not know them before – I moved in because the rent was cheap and included bills, TV and the Internet.  They were non-intrusive, asked no questions, entered into very little small talk and had a shared contempt for those that were not within their inner circle of acknowledgement.  Therefore, I did not get in their way and they did not get in mine.
I am usually only at home when I have to KO after a serious party.  I would welcome the warm silence that would envelope me as I finally staggered across the threshold every Sunday afternoon or evening to enter into a comatose state that no one could wake me from until I felt entirely rested.  These sessions could last anywhere between 10 and 18 hours.  Of course no one much noticed or really cared – who was there to care?

I made a point of entering employment on one condition – I did not work Mondays.  This had worked out for me as I worked at a CD store and therefore the requirements to work a standard working week were not essential.  The manager understood where I was coming from – I could tell he may have partied hard a few years back and had a guarded empathetic view to the stagnant life situation I was in.  More than once I had been called into his office for a ‘little chat’ which usually contained the over used phrases: “you are not reaching your potential”, “you could do better than this” and “you are young and you are wasting your life away”.  I would nod and sigh and stare into the distance for most of the chat wondering where the next party would be on Saturday.

The next party consequently was being leaked as pretty local.  This excited me.  To know I was close enough to home to know that when the time came I could get myself there easily enough without the use of my drug-addled brain was a relief.

Lex had picked me up twenty minutes ago in his rusty excuse for a car.  The aggressive rust developing along each of the wheel arches had forcefully chipped the white paint away.  All but one of the hubcaps had been lost amidst the adventures the car had been involved in.  It had taken us through many off-road terrains towards many wonderful and colourful experiences.  It was our mystical chariot carrying us towards a deep and meaningful experience of connecting with tribal rhythms and primitive forces beyond the limits of our feeble capacity of understanding.  For that, I would not have traded his car for anything else.

We rattled along the country lanes listening to a cacophony of sounds dubbed ‘breakcore’.  As I dragged on my cigarette I dialed the party line number again to see what the next directions were.  With the phone up to my ear I signaled for Lex to turn down the noise.  “We need to make a right along here somewhere – there I think” pointing into the gloom inadequately lit by the car’s dim lights.  The car turned into a dirt road; on the horizon they could see a collage of coloured lights.  “We must be close”, I rolled down the window and leaned my head out slightly so as to hear the booms vibrating in the valley we had found ourselves in.  After a few more turns, Lex brought the car to a halt and parked it right behind a battered BMW from the early nineties.  “Looks like Chris has beaten us to it”, Lex nodded towards the BMW.  We grabbed our bags, coats and a few cans of beer and locked up the car.  Lex circled the car once more checking that every door was locked.  He had had a bad experience at another party where he had left one of the doors unlocked and when he had returned to his car in the morning it had been stripped.  They even took the seats. Bastards.  He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. 

The party was in full flow; we had left a bit later as we both hated getting to parties when they had only just started up.  The rig was nestled between two fat tree trunks and a tarpaulin sheet had been strung between the two trunks as a make shift roof to keep the decks and equipment dry in case it rained.  We made our way over to Chris, an acquaintance we had made about two years ago at a squat party in a disused warehouse in Park Royal.  The party had been sketchy, lots of shadowy characters and some outbreaks of violence here and there.  Lex and I had been sharing our disgust of such acts in an intoxicated conversation with a stranger we later learned to be Chris.  He shared a lot of the same viewpoints with us and we continued to bump into each other for the next few months at every party we went to, eventually turning into firm friends. 

Chris had turned out to be an excellent choice of friend as he sold an array of drugs.  No longer did we have to be concerned with where we could get our drugs from as Chris always had everything in plentiful supply.  He was a very popular man on the rave scene, not just for his supplies but his jovial friendly manner too.  It was getting all too common that shadier characters were turning up to these raves and causing all sorts of problems in the background haze of the collective consciousness. 

Parties had changed in the last few years.  I blamed the ketamine.  It had turned everyone into reclusive zombies, wondering round in a dribbling mess with a white ring of powder encrusted around their nostrils, otherwise known as ‘the polo’.  It was pathetic.  I used to love parties; I could be high, happy and be anyone I wanted to be.  I would sit down with a crowd of strangers and instantly felt I belonged.  People would want to talk to me, want to hug me – want to really know me.  Of course all this was a false economy and come morning no one would remember each other’s names let alone want to be in physical proximity.  But for several hours each weekend people would love each other – what a future that would be if every day could bring such joy and love into everyone’s hearts.  In my opinion, everyone should be prescribed with E; it would turn the world into a better place, at least for the precious few hours of being high.

Lex has disappeared from my side.  I cast an eye around for him but couldn’t see him.  Oh well, his loss.  I opened the wrap of MDMA, freshly purchased from Chris and put some of the yellowish crystals into a rizla.  “Bottoms up” I uttered to myself and swallowed the rizla with a big gulp of beer.  I then proceeded to roll myself a cigarette, nodding acknowledgement to a couple of guys that walked past me.

Forty-five minutes later the MDMA had taken effect, I was rushing severely and trying to resist the urge to throw up.  My body was tingling and warmth spread from my feet up to my head.  I pushed myself up from the stump of the tree and I started to dance to the techno beat, banging one foot after another into the dirt feeling the rhythmic pattern.

A while later I felt a bit tired.  I say ‘a while’ as time is not really quantitative in the world of ecstasy.  I could have been dancing for 10 minutes or ten hours, I was not entirely sure.  However, I did know that I could do with a sit down, a cigarette and probably a small line of ketamine, just to take the edge off as it were.  I am probably sounding like a hypocrite.  It is not that I do not like ketamine; I just do not like the people who take it and proceed to act like idiots.  A small amount of ketamine coupled with standing in front of the speakers could produce epic effects.  You felt like you could physically climb inside of the music, like it was something tangible.  You could feel the shape of the beats.  It was a beautiful feeling.  But that is all ketamine is good for, a companion to MDMA and acid techno.

I was looking round for a suitable place to settle for a little while when I noticed a pathway leading down to another rig.  I must have been so involved with dancing that I had not noticed the arrival of a second sound source.  I stumbled closer and saw Lex off to the right talking in visually hushed tones to a guy in a hoody and dirty jeans.  As I came closer Lex caught a glimpse of me and looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights.  He stuffed something into the guy’s hand and I heard him say something like “catch you later” to the scruffy man. 
“What are you doing?” I asked in the least confrontational means possible. 
“Nothing”, he looked at the ground, “just catching up with some people”, he could not have looked guiltier. 
“Who?” I enquired, “I have never seen that guy before.  He looks a bit sketchy if you ask me”. 
“Yeh, well you think everyone looks sketchy.  And I didn’t ask you”, his eyes bore into mine and then he turned away and wondered off.



Well that was bloody rude I thought to myself.  What is he playing at acting like that?  Something had gotten into him lately.  He was even quieter and more withdrawn than usual, the qualities that first attracted her to him.  This was the third time he had lost his temper with her in the last week since the party last weekend.  He looked pale and underweight.  Maybe he was neglecting himself, not sleeping properly, or eating well.  It is hard to eat after taking drugs all weekend.  It feels like the last thing in the world you want to do, just the thought of it can make you feel sick.  Sometimes you really have to force yourself to take that first bite.  It really is the only way to make yourself feel better after a heavy weekend.


I thought I would go and find him to confront him about his weird behaviour and see if we could sort it out.  I scanned the faces for him.  I went back up the path to the other rig.  He wasn’t there either.  He must have gone for a walk in the woods or something.  I would find him later.  I had good drugs to consume and music to climb inside of.


As I settled myself on the tree stump conveniently positioned far away from the rave so as not to be disturbed I saw a lumbering figure looking frantically around.  I stood up to see Chris grabbing a girl’s arm and signaling something to her.  She broke away from the crowd immediately and pulled her phone out of her bag.  What’s going on?  Just as I had formed the thought in my mind Chris spotted me and ran straight towards me.  “You gotta come quick”, he said breathlessly.
“What’s happened?” He had me worried and paranoid.  With the right stimuli this effect was easy to achieve after ingesting a cocktail of recreational chemicals.
“It’s Lex”, he stammered.  “Just come with me now, he is by the car.”  Chris grabbed my arm in his strong grip and dragged me until I was powered under my own momentum.  We ran to the car.  A small group had gathered round Lex’s car.  I saw the girl with the phone.  She was still speaking to someone on the other end.  As I neared, people moved aside, like the waves parting for Moses.  Slumped in the driving seat was a body.  It was Lex. 

My heart stopped. 

My head throbbed with the drugs, the music, and the situation.  I cried out and knelt down next to him.  “Lex”, I shouted.  I started to shake him. “Lex! Wake up!”  He had a needle sticking out from the crook of his right arm.  He had a blue-ish tinge to his skin and felt cold to touch. 
“What is this shit?” I screamed at Chris. 
He touched my arm, “it looks like he has OD’d Charlie, I didn’t know he was into this shit”, he exhaled slowly and deliberately wiping his forehead with his sleeve.  None of us were in the right state to deal with this situation.  This wasn’t supposed to happen, this stuff happens to other people.  Stupid people, people who don’t know what they are doing.
“He is still breathing, Jenny is on the phone to the ambulance now”, he was trying to remain calm but I could hear the emotion in his voice. 

My world has suddenly been torn apart.  Lex was using smack.  I couldn’t believe it.  The realization hit me like a bus.  We took the piss out of smack heads.  We despised them.  They were scum.  And he was one.  He didn’t tell me.  A wave of anger washed over me and I started to scream and hit Lex’s limp body.  Chris grabbed me away from the car and I cried shamelessly into his shoulder.  I looked up at his face, “he is going to be alright isn’t he?  He has just had a bit too much.  He will sleep it off right?” I asked the questions I needed to voice but knew the answers to deep down.
“He’s holding on, Jenny is being instructed by the ambulance people while we wait for them to get here.  There is nothing we can do.  We just have to wait” he was fighting back his own tears, trying to be brave. 

“Shit!” Jenny shouted leaning over Lex’s body, “he has stopped breathing!”
I rushed over to him, “someone do something!  Please! Help him!  Lex, don’t die.  You can’t die!”  I screamed. 

A guy had grabbed Lex and laid him out on the floor.  He was beating his chest and then holding his nose and breathing into his mouth.  Jenny was shouting down the phone at the advisor on the other end desperately asking what to do.  I was holding Lex’s hand whilst the unknown guy continued to pound his chest and breathe into his mouth.  I looked into Lex’s face, noting the delicate contours of his eyes and nose.  Please don’t die; I can’t do this without you.  I love you.  One of my tears rolled from my cheek and hit his eyelid. 

The man who was knelt down attempting to resuscitate Lex leaned back on his feet.  “He’s gone.  He’s not breathing.  I can’t do it” he rubbed his grimy face with his hands.  He got up and moved away.  I was bent over Lex crying harder than I have ever cried in my life.  This could not be happening.  We had only come out to have a good time, like we had done every weekend for the last three years.  What had gone wrong?  Why had he turned to smack?

All these questions remain unanswered to this day.  I had to talk to the police.  I didn’t tell them anything.  What could I tell them?  I didn’t know anything.  I have never felt so alone in my entire life.

So here I sit in my bathroom, a week later, not being able to cope with what has happened.  No one has helped me, talked to me, or asked me how I’m doing.  I can’t carry on anymore without anyone who understands me.  I am kneeling on the rug in front of the mirror with a belt squeezing the veins out of my arm.  I push the point of the needle in, pushing the junk into my veins.  It was enough to kill two fully-grown men, so I was advised.  I wanted to feel what he felt.  I wanted to go out the same way.
I close my eyes and think of Lex. 
I will see you soon Lex.
I will be there soon.