Light Bulb!!!

I think it was 2 nights before Thanksgiving. Yeah. And again, it was bad. It was right around midnight, and the day prior had been spent trying to lie, beg, and manipulate my way into some kind of money to get some dope. I HAD to be well, for obvious reasons, but also, because in about 10 hours my entire family was going to be coming over for Thanksgiving dinner. The thought terrified me. Just the thought of food repulsed me. Let alone the smell, and all the chaos and busyness of the whole ordeal. I had once again come up empty. I didn’t even have enough money in the car to go pan handle. I mean, it might have made it to the gas station, maybe. But it was not making it any farther than that. I remember this night vividly, because I had my T.V in my parents basement on laying on my air mattress, and it seemed like that damn Taylor swift song, You Belong With Me came on every ten minutes. God I wanted to attack Taylor Swift at that time. I was so desperate, sick, and disgusted with the shape I had gotten myself into. I had literally run out of options. My parents could not be fooled anymore, no one would loan me so much as ten dollars, and dope dealers didn’t want to sell to me, because I was always coming short, on promises of getting them back next time. I was rapidly heading for homelessness. I tossed and turned and sweat and threw up all night while vowing revenge on Taylor Swift for making such a terrible and catchy song. It was one of the longest nights of my life. I had goosebumps on my face. Non stop sneezing, body aches, and fear. T-minus 5 hours. I had to do something, it didn’t matter what it was.
The daylight came around and it was do or die time. Covered in stale sweat and goosebumps, I tip toed upstairs to my parents kitchen. My sweet mother was already up, smoking a cigarette, the smell made me dry heave. I had nothing left in my stomach to throw up. More sneezes. More goosebumps. I made my way out to the garage, and rummaged through some old recycling of my folks. I found a large old cardboard box, and carried it in. The look on my mom’s face was very troubled. “What in the hell could this kid be doing up at 530am for, with this old box?” I can only imagine some of my parents thoughts while I was torturing myself like this. Without missing a step, I took the box back downstairs and closed the door behind me.
It was freezing outside, and I knew this. So I bundled and layered as much as I possibly could handle. Its was about 615 by now, and almost full daylight. I wanted to get this done and over with. So I made my way out the door with as much stealth as I could. When I went back upstairs my mom had gone back to bed, thank God. So I was able to just waltz out through the garage door without having to try and explain anything. I was so insane at this point, I could only imagine the lies that would have come out of my mouth pertaining to my destination at 615 in the morning the day of our Thanksgiving dinner. The winter time cold hit me like a thousand needles to my face and nostrils. More goosebumps, more sneezing, more bile. Sweating. I had to go. So I did.
I made my way down the drive and onto the entry way into our neighborhood. I pushed on. With every step, grief, remorse and a self hatred that only comes from doing what I was about to do. I arrived at the stop sign at the entrance to our subdivision, and either had to go left or right, I chose left, toward highway 30. On I went. I cried, and sneezed, and I threw up about 5 times on my way to my destination. I did these things of course, from the withdrawl, but also from the giant hole that was now eating every bit of humanity inside me. I passed the fire station, and made my way past a farmers market. I was almost there. Cold. Sweats. Goosebumps. Bile. Tears. Self hatred. I arrived at the intersection of highway 30 and county road 250 and stopped. I took a deep breath, hated myself, and opened my jacket. I reached down inside to remove my concealed bright idea. It was the box. Well, one of the large flat sides of it, folded in half. I zipped my coat back up and stood there in shock. I was actually about to do this. My eyes never left my feet as drivers slowed at the light and gawked at me. In big bold black magic marker read the words “Single father. No work. Need help. God bless.” This was my great plan. I’ll never forget that feeling.

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