He had saved me from the deepest darkest hole. I could finally be me again.
“Umm, I wanted to tell you thank you.” I couldn't even make eye contact with him.
“For what? Kidnapping and almost torturing you?”
I chuckled. “For getting me through the withdrawals. If you hadn't come along. I'd still be in that nasty building, shooting that junk into my veins.” I looked down at the track marks on the inside of my arms. Would those ever go away? Would I always be that junkie?
“Don't mention it,” he replied. “I couldn't see a pretty girl like yourself waste away in a place like that.” I knew he must've been lying because the drugs had destroyed my looks. I had avoided mirrors on purpose just so I didn't have to see the damage it had done to me.
Locke left me alone in the room with the box of my stuff. I had sold almost all my belongings to get a fix. I had no idea what Locke could have brought over from my old place. There was nothing left. I peeked inside to find brand new clothes: jeans, shirts, panties, bras, and socks. They were all my size. How did he know?
Below the clothes was a small makeup kit. Nothing fancy but all the basics: eyeliner, eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick. I didn't even remember the last time I woke up and actually put makeup on. It was probably the night of the college party when my whole life went down the toilet.
I set the contents of the box to the side and at the very bottom was a crumpled-up photo. Tears began streaming down my cheeks. How did Locke even find this? It was a picture of my parents and me at the Grand Canyon when I was around seven years old. I had kept it under my dirty mattress and had forgotten all about it. I had sold my purse to a pawn shop for something like five dollars and that photo was the only thing I kept.
My parents wanted to go on a vacation to the Grand Canyon and I thought it was going to be the most boring road trip of my life. I complained the whole way there and my mom and dad were arguing with each other. It was was one of those times I wished I was old enough to stay home by myself.
But when we got to the Grand Canyon, everybody stopped. All we did was stare out into the vastness and appreciate what we had. The canyon was so damn big. Why didn't anybody tell me? We got a kid to take our picture and I had that photo pinned on my wall all the way up to college.
When I got into drugs, I knew my parents were looking for me. I had just up and left, searching for my next fix. I knew I had to live alone. There was no way, I could hide my drug habit from them. And if they ever found out, the disappointment in their eyes would kill me. One day, I spotted one of those missing person flyers nailed to a telephone pole. It was about me.
I almost contacted them that day. I didn't want them thinking I was dead. I wanted to tell them that I was perfectly safe and we'd see each other again someday. But I figured they were better off knowing that I was dead than finding out what their daughter had become.
I wiped the tears away and placed the photo on the nightstand. I took the brand new clothes and the makeup kit into the bathroom. If you ever wondered what a boy's bathroom looked like if he has no one to clean up after him, Locke's bathroom was it. The counters had never been cleaned, cardboard toilet paper rolls were overflowing out of the wastebasket, and hair clippings filled the sink. I would've gagged if I was the Alice from awhile back. But this Alice didn't even use a bathroom anymore. She just pissed and shit in whatever corner was the dirtiest. So I couldn't complain.
I walked in front of the mirror with my eyes tightly shut. I was terrified of what I'd see in the reflection. I opened my eyes and the tears came right back. I'd lost so much weight. My cheeks had no color and my eyes were all sunken in and dark. My hair was in knots and I was surprised it wasn't much worse since I never brushed my