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Evil forces were conspiring against me; that’s what it felt like most of the time. Where ever I’d turn there was something. There was a deep hunger at the pit of my being, like a giant monster greedy and ready to feed on my failures and desperation. It wouldn’t let me sleep at night. The howling of the sad and the tears of the insane were like a broken song in my head. House rules dictated that I stay put and not leave the house for anything other than court appointed meetings and work. Wondering the small space of the house quickly grew weary and there was no solution to my ache. After six months of being clean and keeping up good appearances, I was granted off site privileges. I could leave the predetermined streets but had to be back by ten pm. An illusion of freedom; an invisible leash. I found loopholes in the curfew law and began to stay out later and later, wondering the quiet streets of this mediocre suburb. I would walk for hours, trying to outrun my demons. They haunted me. Followed me: relentless and cruel.

One morning I woke up to darkness. The day was predestined to deteriorate and shrink; I fought with a sad and disturbed woman in the house, a fight that resulted in a black eye and split lip. I missed my bus and was late for work, and by the day's end I was ready to kill. I wanted to find a small quiet place and get high. Knock myself out into oblivion. Obliterate this feeling of rotting decay. I was raw nerve endings, static electricity; on edge and ready to explode. I took a bus that went far east, away from the tidy houses and neat lifestyles on the west. I had to walk the few remaining blocks until the reached the edge. And I longed to smell the stale air and disease infested prostitutes of Hell’s Last Acre. The city’s landscape changed dramatically once we crossed that line and once I got closer to my old hunting ground. Rows of dead and dying trees, streets littered with debris and food, disheveled clothes and decomposing boxes. Stray animals like mosquitoes buzzing around, ravenous for blood.

Everything was different. I was suddenly numb, but something inside me was off. I heard music from deep within my head and the rhythm was enchanting. I stood still for a brief moment and then wondered further into the darkness that was my home. The streets were empty. There was no one there, only scattered garbage, reminiscent of the medley of junkies that populated the floor the night before. On the street everything was tainted green, sinister and sickly. Broken beams of stained rainbow. My breath was like a thick cloud of smoke; my soul escaping my body. The sky above me was vast. An endless darkness dusted with diamonds. The moon hung low and dazzling washing the world with its golden glow. I continued walking, not too sure on the destination or the direction. I couldn’t feel my legs but they carried me far. My blood flowed in my veins like warm oozing goo. I was overcome with feeling. My nose started running and my throat was burning; razor blades and pain. I started crying and my blurred vision didn’t deter me, I kept walking hoping to find something familiar, something comforting. I wanted to connect with another human being; this damn street was so empty. My memory flashed back to Wally. Where was he? Was he still alive? The dichotomy and complexity of human emotion. I had a fire of hatred that burned deep within me for what he put me through, but at the same time, I missed him and longed to be with him. I turned down a street, like a gaping mouth it stood before me; dark and wide, full of rotten teeth. Old decaying buildings; a ghost town. Bare and deserted. Where was everyone? Still catatonic I wondered what my downfall might look like. How it would come about. And here I was, armed with money and warm clothes, a history of sobriety and future, ready to piss it all away. Now that I had a bit of common sense would I be able to survive the exchange? Could I approach a dealer and make the transaction? Could I trust and be trusted? Fear started seeping into my blood stream and up into my brain. I turned around and headed back to the edge, out and away from Hell. The sun started to rise in different shades of yellow, pink and blue and it was magnificent, like a Monet painting coming to life before my eyes. Its beauty astonished me and I started to cry again. I was so lonely. The wind picked up and went through me like sand; every grain was like ice cutting my skin. I thought my fingers were going to fall off.