CHAPTER 14

Three grams of Charlie in a small plastic bag. Two pills, one blue, one white. Two blotters of acid, one with a strawberry picture, the other with a heart.

I sat on the side of the bed, fist pressed against my lips, one foot constantly tapping a jive against the floor. Reaching out, I straightened up the line of drugs on the bedside table, spacing them out, then went back along and did it again. I stood up abruptly, began to walk away and stopped.

Three grams. Two pills. Two tabs.

Turning around, I stared at the line-up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Taking a step closer, I hesitated, clutching at my hair. With a whimper, I opened the drawer, quickly swiping the cocktail into it and shut it firmly, stepping back to watch the small table lamp wobble on top of the unit, the light juddering on the walls.

I walked away. Stopped. Glanced back. Closed my eyes.

Screams filled my ears, like the shrieks of a thousand birds, wings furiously beating at the air.