.: At Least I'll Give You Dark Delight [Jyrki] :. Info

The scratched up wooden floor would have stacked piles of clothes, garbage, and empty bottles. The paint on the wall would probably be chipping away to show a miserable grey color. There would probably even be a leak from the rain somewhere in the corner. I didn’t feel like getting up and putting one of the few pans I had left under it.

After a few more minutes of pretending to be asleep, I heard some shifting on the bed next to me. Then there were some footsteps on the floor, leading to the bathroom, followed by the sound of my bathroom door closing. I took this as my opportunity to open my eyes. What I saw was exactly what I had expected. The only difference is that there were a man’s clothes added to the top of my clothing pile.

I looked at the digital clock next to me. It was one thirty in the afternoon. Normally, I would have woken up a bit later, especially after a night like last night. Thirsty Thursdays, as we would call it, included no break in between our liquor shots and marijuana hits.

I heard the doorknob start twisting on the bathroom door and immediately pretended to be asleep again. Some more footsteps and shifting followed. I could only assume – or hope – that he was putting his clothing back on. My wish came true as I felt the cold lips of the stranger press against my forehead and then the footsteps of him start walking out the door. The act ended when I heard my apartment door slam shut. I let out a sigh of relief as I sat up and started stretching.

I had been through this same routine countless times. Awake, but pretending to be asleep for the unknown man sleeping in my bed with me; the unnecessary goodbye kiss on the forehead; and then finally, the guiltless feeling when I woke up, after which I’d probably start the whole routine once more.

It wasn’t hard for me to find a guy to take home on most nights. And sometimes I was just too high or drunk to care whom I took home. That’s one of the reasons why I never opened my eyes to see my prior night’s entertainment: I didn’t want to know what I had brought home.

I reached over to the nightstand and started patting around until I felt my box of cigarettes and a lighter. Picking them both up, I slid one of the tempting cigarettes in between my lips and lit it up. I savored the feeling of the smoke traveling through my lungs and then back out again. There wasn’t a second in the day when I didn’t crave that feeling. In fact, if I could smoke while sleeping and showering, I probably would.

I swung my feet over the bed and stood up. The whole room seemed to spin for a second and a light aching formed in my head. I assumed that it was a slight hangover. Despite all I had to drink the previous night, I knew it wasn’t enough to give me a full-out hangover. I know grew a powerful tolerance to any category of substance.

I walked into the bathroom and turned on the water, letting it heat up. My water line took some time to heat up and it only left me with a few minutes before the water went back to ice cold. But for an addict who had little to no money to her name trying to make it by in LA, I was lucky I even had an apartment with any water at all.

After it finally got warm, I put out my cigarette, threw it into the trashcan, and stepped into the shower, letting the soothing tepid water run over the body I excessively abused. The water was so lulling that I almost felt the sins of last night wash away with the water that rushed through the drain, dashing as if it wanted to get as far away from me as possible. I didn’t blame it. If I was normal and met a psycho junkie on the street, I’d run for the hills as well.

As I felt the water start turning slightly colder, I turned it off and stepped outside. I wiped away the fog on the mirror and looked at myself. The watery black eyeliner that I hadn’t taken off the previous night due to my rendezvous with said stranger ran down my face like the rainwater running down my windows. My body and face looked sunken in, as if I hadn’t eaten in days.

But despite how I looked on the outside, I knew I was hideous on the inside. I had no character. I filled a syringe up with personality each and every night, and as soon as that high went away, so did the real Andy. I could no longer stand on my own without the use of substances. My body and mind had grown too dependent on what I once used for merely pleasure.

I took a towel from the nearby rack and dried myself off before grabbing my silk robe and draping over myself. I didn’t know why I even bothered to cover up since I had the whole apartment to myself anyways. It’s not that I was being modest. I didn’t give a fuck who saw me naked. In fact, if the porno business weren’t so competitive, I’d be the first in line to go for an interview. Although I doubted that porno job interviews involved much talking.

I opened the door of the bathroom to enter my bedroom, where my suspicions were confirmed: there was a leak that was now flooding my floor in the corner of my room. I looked around the room for anything convenient to set under it. It was then that I found a small flowerpot on a nearby table. The flower in it was withering away, no doubt about to die anytime soon. There was nothing I could do to save it. There was nothing I wanted to do to save it. Life apparently wasn’t too important to me.

I took the flowerpot and headed for the window. After opening it up, I dumped the contents of the flowerpot into the alley below me, and then closed the window before much more water could get in. My floor was already getting wet from the leak; I didn’t need an open window to flood the apartment even more.

I walked over to the leak and put the flowerpot beneath it. Afterwards, I stepped back and grinned at the genius idea. Not only did I cut short the torrent before it did any damage, but I also saved a useful pot from my kitchen. I didn’t really cook much, but a pot is usually useful when I do.

I lit up another cigarette as I walked into the kitchen and headed for the refrigerator. I opened it up and started looking for food at first. The absence of everything that wasn’t expired or disgusting led me to grab a bottle of beer in its stead. I didn’t mind much though. It only meant that I would start my day a little early than usual. And I especially needed that on days that I worked.

I walked into my living room and sat down on the couch, picking up the mail I had thrown on the coffee table yesterday and sifting through it. It was mostly bills, which reminded me that my rent was due in a week. I let out an exasperated sigh. That would mean less money I would have to spend on booze and drugs. Money that I didn’t have.

I went over options in my head to get money. Sure, I could work an extra shift tonight, but that would mean less time to party. And since it was a Friday night, the last thing I wanted to do was be stuck working.

I finally settled on my last resort not too long later. The thought was morally wrong, but I had no other choice. As much as I hated conning people like this, I hated not being able to be in a high even more. There was nothing more important to me than feeling good. Not even my dignity.