The funnel story

A ghosts lonely wanderings reflecting on her time spent, and what it was spent on.

Trigger warnings for rape and drug abuse.

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2. The neighborhood

 

I started heading down the street, it was late autumn and I crossed my arms. Not that I was cold, I couldn't get cold anymore so I guess I did so out of habit.

The feeling of dread started to fill up in the pit of my stomach the closer I got to my old neighbourhood. The closer I got the more rubbish seemed to like the streets, the more tasteless graffitti covered the walls and the more the condoms, cigarettes and the odd rusty syringe seemed to lie fucking everwhere.

I passed a couple of my old hangouts. The 'friends' who used to own them didn't live there anymore, I don't know where they are now. Maybe in Jail? Hospital? Or doing the same thing I am now. I hoped it was the first one because the second and third are too painful. It seemed that way since the door was...well, non existant and laid across the front garden like myself after many a night.

I stopped outside one of the least dilapidated apartments and stood outside for a while. This is where I spent most of my time because this is where I could buy my escape. Just looking at the place filled me with nausea and I looked down at my arms and I still found it weird to see clean unbruised skin. I wondered why now I have new skin and such but I'm STILL in this crappy hospital gown.

I wondered up to the door and thought that, judging by all the ghost films I'd seen, I should be able to walk straight through it right? Wrong. Luckily I can't feel pain anymore, physical pain.

Luckily for me though they must recently have been raided and the door simply propped up so technically me walking into the door did open it. Again, it was empty and I was seriously wondering where the fuck everyone was.

The place had not got any cleaner and it still stank like catnip, even though there was no cat nevermind catnip. Burnt heroin smells disgustingly like catnip.

I walked into the middle of the room and looked around, how could I spend so much time here? I'm sure there was more furniture here last time. Then again when you're just wanting to get high thats the least of your concerns. I looked over at the tatty old couch slumped against the wall. I refused to go near it, as if the events of that day were the couches fault. Even though I knew they were mine.

I closed my eyes and I was back there, I tried to never come here myself but I was desperate that day and I assumed there would be other people here too. But no, when he answered the door it was only him. But I desperatly needed some stuff.

I made out like I was in a rush in hopes that he would just let me pay for the shit and leave. But he knew better, and we both knew this was going to happen one way or another. He sat me down on the couch and I thought maybe he'd try to talk me into it first but no he just rubbed his unshaven face all over mine and ran his dirty hands up my dirty leg.

Theres a strange thing about moments like those, for a split second you think to yourself 'its okay I will wake up any second now' or think theres a way to somehow mentally escape then the true horror hits you that this is really happening and you cannot escape. I didn't scream, cry or anything like that. I knew there was no point.

Afterwards he acted completely normal, which made me question if any of it actually happened, or if it had if I'd misinterperated the whole thing. He handed me more shit then I paid for and as soon as I saw that it didn't really matter to me. Nothing matter as long as you have shit. Even though I didn't know it would be the last time I'd ever shoot up.

I felt sick standing there, remembering all this. I felt sick not so much at what happened itself but at how casually I'd felt about it at the time. As if that was normal. As if giving me a bit more heroine made it okay.

I walked back out and I knew where I had to go to next. She was waiting for me.

Once I'd exited the neighbourhood and turned into the 'old people estate.' You know the one, every town/city has one. I knew my time was getting short so I wasted none of it in finding the bungalow I needed.

 

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