A LaLa Land Addiction

by Ashley Antoinette

  “I won! Un-uh! I got this!” the old lady called out proudly as she stood up.

  The hustlers fell out in hysterics as the rest of the addicts climbed to their feet.

  “Yeah, a’ight,” the ringleader said as he pulled out a bag and tossed it on the ground. “Yo, we out!” he called to his friends.

  “You out?! You said all night!” the lady protested. “This ain’t even my thing! I don’t do heroin!”

  The hustler tossed a couple more bags at her before disappearing from the basement. Despite the fact that she didn’t do boy, the lady still scrambled to pick up the bags before any of the other fiends in the basement got their hands on them.

  Bleu gathered herself and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, nursing her wound. She prepared to leave, unsure of where she would go, knowing she couldn’t go back to the room.

  “Where you going, Red? You ain’t on this with me?” the old lady said.

  “You sharing?” Bleu asked.

  “Hell yeah. I don’t really fuck with this shit. I don’t want to do it by myself,” the lady said.

  Feeling humiliated, Bleu really just wanted to flee, but it was the insatiable urge and a bit of curiosity that made her follow the lady back into the storage room.

  “Aw-w, Red, don’t let them young boys fuck with you. The universe has a way of paying ’em back. It’s all fun and games until it’s one of they mama or sister or daddy. This shit here can happen to anybody.” The lady was speaking nothing but truth. “Wait right here. I got to go get my friend. She do this shit. She’ll be able to set us up.”

  Bleu felt an inkling of fear fill her belly. Her intuition was trying to tell her that she was taking this thing a little too far. There was a difference between wanting to get high and having to. Bleu felt she was teetering on the line, threatening to cross it.

  “Come on, girl. You can go first,” the lady said as she came back with a jittery young white girl. Bleu didn’t even bother to get her name, figuring she wouldn’t remember it after the night anyway.

  “Why am I going first?” Bleu asked.

  “Cuz it’s my shit and my rules,” the lady said. “Come on now. Give me your arm.” Bleu stuck out her arm and the white girl wrapped a belt around Bleu’s biceps.

  “You got good veins, girl,” the white girl said, marveling as she pulled out a metal spoon.

  “What will it feel like?” Bleu asked.

  “Like God came down from the clouds himself to kiss you,” the white girl said. “Especially the first time.”

  “How old are you?” Bleu asked. Her pulse was racing. She felt like she was out of breath, her anxiety was so bad.

  “Seventeen,” the girl said, and Bleu gasped in shock. This girl was too young to be caught up so bad. What was this white girl doing in the middle of the hood? White girl didn’t belong there, but truth be told, neither did Bleu. She watched the girl place the heroin in the spoon and light a flame beneath it. The heroin melted.

  “Grab one of the cotton balls out of my pocket,” she instructed. Bleu did it. “Place it in there.” The white girl motioned for the old lady. “Come hold the spoon.”

  The white girl took a syringe out of her pocket and stuck it in the cotton ball, drawing the heroin up until the syringe was full. Bleu shivered slightly as the white girl placed it in her arm. Her arm burned and then seemed to freeze as the heroin traveled up her arm.

  “I can’t feel my arm,” Bleu said. Suddenly her heart felt heavy, as if it just took too much effort to keep beating. She heard it in her ears, heard it slowing, felt the sharp pain in her chest as her eyes rolled up inside of her head. She was trying her hardest to gain control of her body, but suddenly she was shaking uncontrollably. The last thing she saw was the white girl running off just before Bleu’s eyes rolled in the back of her head, turning everything white.

  * * *

  “Fuck is going on?” Messiah asked as he and Noah pulled up to the apartments just as a rush of degenerates who hung out in the bowels of the building came running out.

  “Where the lil’ niggas that run the block?” Noah asked as he stepped out and slammed the door before heading toward the commotion. He grabbed one of the fiends who were hightailing it out of there. “Yo, what’s the problem? What’s going on?”

  “O.D. in the basement. Don’t nobody want no part of that. Police will be all up and through here now. Gotta find a new spot to get zooted,” the toothless man said. Noah let him go and shook his head as he and Messiah headed toward the basement.

  “If these the lil’ niggas you vouching for, we in trouble. They can’t even run this shit right. One of these dopehead mu’fuckas die from our shit and it’s gon’ be bad for business,” Noah scolded as he entered the basement. “Get them on the phone so they can come clean up their mess. Can’t have the police pulling bodies out of these buildings, G,” Noah instructed, highly upset that aspects of his operation were being run inefficiently.

  He went down the stairs to see that some of his customers didn’t even flinch at the notion of one of their own overdosing. They really like zombies down here, he thought as he shook his head.

  “Damn, man. This little shorty don’t even look like she supposed to be out here like this!” Messiah called out. “She approached me the other day straight, G, checking a nigga. I put her on credit just of G.P., now this.”

  Noah made his way over to Messiah, and when he reached the girl she was slumped in a corner of the musty basement; her sweaty, greasy hair covered her face.

  “See if she still breathing, man. I can’t fuck with no dead bodies,” Messiah said.

  Noah looked at him sideways. “As many niggas as you done laid down?” Noah questioned.

  “That’s different, my g. I ain’t waiting around afterward, checking pulsing and shit either,” Messiah defended himself.

  Noah smirked as he bent down. When he moved the girl’s hair out of her face his heart sank. He couldn’t breathe, as all of the oxygen in the room seemed to be sucked out as the walls caved in on him. His eyes widened in horror and his gut twisted in absolute fear.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” he pleaded urgently as he frantically picked the body up from the ground. “Come on, B; this can’t be you,” Noah said, practically begging as his voice cracked from the flood of emotions that were drowning him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. How had she ended up here? “No, B. No! What did you do to yourself? What did you do?!” he asked as tears came to his eyes. “You ain’t supposed to be here. This ain’t for you.”

  “Fuck is up, bruh? You know her?” Messiah asked.

  “Get the door!” Noah shouted as he carried her through the basement. “Hurry!” There was so much emotion in his voice that Messiah halted all lines of questioning. He ran ahead of Noah, opening doors for him so that he could carry Bleu’s body out to his Range.

  He climbed into the backseat and cradled her in his arms. “Drive, man! Get me to the crib as soon as possible and get Khadafi on the line. Tell him I need a doctor ASAP.”

  The ride to the outskirts of town had never felt so long. Bleu was out of it from an apparent drug overdose and Noah was going crazy at the thought of her not coming out of it. He had had no idea she was even back in town, let alone that she was in trouble. His heart ached at the sight of her.

  “Come on, Bleu; don’t do this to me. Wake up!” he screamed as he rocked her back and forth. He gripped her chin, shaking her head slightly, trying to shake her as if she were simply asleep. “Get up, B. Get up.”

  Messiah didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even aware of how Noah knew Bleu, but the bond they shared was apparent. Messiah had never seen any man grieve over a woman like that. The amount of sorrow that filled the truck was palpable. For a lack of knowing what to say he said nothing; he just did as he was told and put the calls in to make sure there would be help when they arrived.

  Noah hopped out before the truck even stopped moving, carrying her effortlessly as he rushed her into his home. He t
ook notice of the amount of weight Bleu had lost. She was nothing in his arms.

  A woman hopped out of an SUV and rushed up to him. “Khadafi sent me. I’m Simone. I’m a nurse. I can help,” she said as she followed them hastily up the walkway. “What happened?”

  Messiah opened the door and they all rushed inside.

  “I don’t know. I found her like this. I think she overdosed,” Noah said, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that Bleu was using drugs.

  “Overdosed on what?” the nurse asked as she immediately went to work. She placed rubber gloves on her hands and pointed to the couch. “Put her here for now.”

  “I don’t know; crack, heroin. I’m not sure,” Noah replied. “You’ve got to get her to wake up. That’s my life right there.”

  He was in such a frenzy that he had completely forgotten that Naomi was home. He looked up to find Naomi standing in the hallway, her mouth hanging wide open as confusion resonated in her eyes.

  “What the hell is all this?” she asked. “Who is this dirty bitch you got ruining my fifteen-thousand-dollar couch?”

  Noah stepped over to Naomi and looked her dead in the eyes. “That’s my couch. This is my crib. You don’t decide who I bring here, and watch your mouth when you speak about her,” he said.

  Naomi was stunned to silence. Noah had never spoken to her that way. This was a side of him that she had never seen.

  “How about I just leave your crib then?” she said sarcastically. “You and your little crackhead girlfriend over there can do whatever you want.”

  Naomi stormed out, slamming the door so hard that it rocked the frame. Noah exhaled and rubbed the top of his head. His life felt like it had turned completely upside down.

  Messiah stepped toward him. “Don’t worry, fam. I’ll go after her and get her to cool down. You know she a hothead,” Messiah said. “Who is this girl, though, my g?”

  “She’s a friend. Somebody I used to know,” Noah answered sadly as he watched the nurse work on Bleu. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sniffed away his emotion.

  “Damn, must be a good friend,” Messiah said, knowing there was more to the story. With that he left and Noah focused on Bleu.

  “Is she going to be okay?” he asked.

  The nurse stood. “Will she wake up from this? Yes, but she has a bad drug addiction,” the nurse informed him. “The tracks in her arms say heroin, but the corroded bone up her nostrils says cocaine. The darkness of her lips says crack cocaine. She’s a full-blown addict. I don’t even think she has a preference as long as it gets her high. That’s the most dangerous type of substance abuser. She needs to be in rehab. I’ve done all I can. She has an IV to replenish her fluids. After she rests a bit, she will come out of it. Then maybe you can clean her up and convince her to get help.” Noah nodded, but he couldn’t respond. Words snuck past the lump in his throat. He let the nurse out and as soon as she was gone he slid to the floor. He rested his forearms on his knees and allowed himself to cry. Bleu had always been his weakness and today he feared that she might break him.

  He sat by her side for hours watching the rise and fall of her chest.

  “Hmm,” she groaned as she blinked her eyes open slowly.

  “Relax, B,” Noah said as he helped her sit up.

  She looked at him in shock. “Where am I? How did I get here?” she said more to herself than to him as she squinted in disbelief. She reached out to touch his face and gasped when her hands actually felt him. She had thought she was hallucinating. “You’re here.”

  “I’m here,” he confirmed as he touched her hand and then kissed it. “What did you do to yourself, Bleu?”

  Bleu’s lip trembled as she replied, “It just got so hard.”

  Noah pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly that she began to sob. “It’s okay, B. Everything is going to be fine. I’m going to help you,” he whispered. He rocked her back and forth. She felt so comforted in that moment. So loved. So valued. It was the first time in a long time that she felt like she meant something to someone. They stayed like that for an hour, just holding on to each other with him whispering reassuring things in her ear. He was giving her hope, letting her know that she was worth saving.

  “I’ve done so many bad things. If I tell you, you’re going to throw me out. You won’t want me here,” she whispered.

  “I swear I’m not going to give up on you, B. Not ever. I don’t give a fuck about nothing that you’ve done,” Noah promised.

  He kissed the top of her head and said, “There is one thing that might make me kick you out.”

  She pulled back, her eyes filled with worry. “Please, Noah,” she said.

  “Your ass stink, B. I’m going to need you to wash your ass if you gon’ be in my crib,” he said with a sly smile.

  She hit him in the chest before giving him an embarrassed laugh. She knew that she was a mess. She couldn’t remember the last time that water had touched her body.

  “Come on,” Noah said. “Let me clean you up and get you something to eat.” He slowly pulled the IV out of her arm and grabbed a Band-Aid off the table, fixing her up. He held out his hand for her and as she stood she wobbled slightly.

  “My legs are so weak,” she said as she reached out one hand to catch her balance on his shoulder.

  Noah scooped her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the master bathroom. She felt safe with him, and although she was embarrassed, she didn’t feel judged. He set her on her feet as he bent over to run her a bath in the Jacuzzi-sized tub. He grabbed some of Naomi’s soap and poured it into the water, then added a few drops of peppermint oil.

  “You can take your time, and when you’re done I’ll have food waiting for you, a’ight?” Noah asked.

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Bleu. You don’t never got to thank me for looking out for you,” Noah responded. “Towels are in the linen closet.”

  Bleu waited until the door was closed before she shed her clothes. She opened the linen closet, but her heart skipped a beat when she noticed the prescription pills that sat inside. She reached for them and then pulled her hand back as if she were about to touch a hot stove. Her pulse picked up and she closed her eyes as temptation tortured her. Don’t fuck this up, she thought. Bleu couldn’t help herself. In her heart, she wanted to do the right thing but still she grabbed the pills off the shelf and read the label. Vicodin. She would have to take a lot to feel a comparable high to that of the heavy stuff she was used to. Bleu poured the entire bottle out into her hands and stuffed them down her throat. She dipped her head under the sink and washed them down. She climbed into the water and let the bubbles soothe her skin as she leaned her head back, waiting for the pills to take effect.

  Noah knocked at the door. “Yo, you a’ight in there?” he shouted. “It’s been almost an hour. I ordered Chinese. It’s been here for twenty minutes. It’s going to be cold by the time you get out.”

  Noah frowned when Bleu didn’t respond, and he reached for the doorknob. “Bleu! Unlock the door.” She didn’t answer and a pit formed in his stomach. He knocked harder. “Open up, B.”

  When she didn’t answer he rammed his shoulder into the door, knocking it down. “Bleu!” he shouted as he saw her slumped in the bathtub, her nose barely above the water.

  He noticed the pill bottle on the floor. “No, no, no, no, no,” he uttered as his heart dropped. He instantly pulled her from the water. He didn’t know if she was trying kill herself or if she was just that desperate to get high, but he was terrified of this version of Bleu. This wasn’t her. He didn’t know what demons she was battling that made her want to be out of her mind, but he wasn’t letting her give up. Her body was like noodles in his arms as he put his back against the tub and held her head back against his shoulder as he stuck his fingers down her throat. Vomit spewed everywhere as she spat the pills up and awoke in a choking fit.

  “What did you do?” Noah asked.

  “I’m s
orry!” she cried. “I’m so sorry. I can’t stop. I need help,” she admitted.

  Noah wiped his hand over his face, overwhelmed by the complexity of this disease. He knew there was more to it than just lack of self-control. He had been there during the years when her mother and father were strung out. Shit, Noah still saw Sienna running around the hood, selling her soul just to get mercy from the local D-boys. These demons were generational for Bleu and it killed him to see her like this. He never thought it would be her.

  “Okay, okay,” he whispered as he helped her back into the tub. He ran her a new bath, but this time he washed her body, being gentle with her as she hugged her knees, crying the entire time. He washed her hair, conditioned it, cleaned the dirt from beneath her fingernails. When he got to her chest he noticed the scar from her shooting. He traced it with his finger briefly before rinsing her body.

  He was so focused on her that he didn’t hear Naomi enter.

  “Really?” she said.

  He turned toward Naomi as Bleu tried to cover her breasts with her hands.

  “It’s not what it looks like. Just give me a minute to pull her out of the tub. We’ll talk in a few,” Noah said assertively.

  Naomi frowned as she looked at the vomit and noticed the smell. Clearly there was nothing sexual going on, but she still didn’t like the fact that Bleu was in her bathroom, using her shit, and having her man catering to her every whim. Naomi stalked out of the bathroom and Noah pulled Bleu out of the tub.