"ColorBlind"

"Max" isn't your typical teenager. His life is filled with cheap thrills and loads of deals. Money,drugs,sex,love,pain. All of these powerful items and emotions play a major role in his life.

"Color Blind"
Written By.
Jordan Slone

( Part One,1982,Rusty Pipes. )
"Get the razor." Tiffany demanded.And when she was in this dazed faze,I knew to obey her,she was small but feisty,just how I tended to prefer my women at a young age.Her blonde hair,draped perfectly in one immovable spot,along the left side of her face. Her eyes were bloodshot,nose bright red,hands clammy and shaking,like quivering branches in the autumn wind. "Max." Tiffany repeated. "The razor?" She motioned towards the deadly cutter once more."Don't you think we've had enough" I asked her,in a sarcastic but curious tone. She grinned at me,not a light and friendly grin.But the type of devious,and Ill tempered grin you would see plastered across the face of a suicide bomber,which at this point in time we had no clue about at all.It would be years later in the year of 2001,September 11th of 2001 to be exact. When one of the most devastating,and unprepared events we've ever faced or ever will face occurred.At this time though back in 1982,sitting in black boxers with a red checkered like pattern wrapped around them ,wearing my ripped band t-shirt sporting the face of my favorite Musician,the best musician to ever live "Jim Morrison" I sat completely fixated on tiffs unsettling grin. She then opened her mouth to speak,and as the saliva dripped down her chin,resembling a germ infested waterfall,she said softly to me "We can never get enough" I was a good little doggy,I raised my right hand which was now also shaking,I grabbed the razor while still staring deep into her eyes,slowly losing myself to the hack drug I'd just snorted up my nose.My finger tips slid painfully across the razor. "Damn" I said as I quickly drew my hand away.I looked at my shaking fingers which were now gushing light red blood,I could see my heart beat in every pulsating thump,the blood would just flow faster.Tiff grabbed my right hand. "Babe,I need a bandaid or something." "Don't worry." Tiffany said. "Mommas gonna take care of you doll." She then took my fingers forcing them inside her mouth,sucking on each one blood began to run down her lips,and I could feel the sharpness of her teeth sliding lightly underneath the open flesh."Mmmmm" I could hear her moaning as blood ran down the corners of her mouth. I jerked my hand back quickly. "That's just f*****g gross,tiff." She licked her lips,and then grabbed the razor herself,showing her frustration and impatience for two things,one that I had stopped her from her disgusting blood drinking fetish,and two,that I hadn't got the razor to her soon enough. As she leaned across me,holding the razor lightly with her thumb and lead finger,she whispered. "That was f*****g tasty." She sat down on her hands and knees,bowing before the cocaine that was once spread evenly,across the giant glass table.But now all that remains are two small piles of powder. I instantly looked down at my watch,it was almost 7:00 am.We'd done blow for nearly four hours.My head looked back up towards Tiffany,although I wasn't sure if I'd have complete control over my bodily functions,thankfully I did. "Tiff,tiff,it's nearly 7:00 am" I could see her dissecting,thin lines of snow,one for each of us,she reach her hand to her back pocket,pulling out a trusty 100 dollar bill. "So" She said,without a hint of panic behind that sweet voice. "So,we have to be at school at 7:30" I replied,already struggling back into my tight black trousers,and forcing the hideous prep button up shirt over my shoulders. Tiffany smiled,as she leaned her head down towards the table,snorting her line of cocaine. "Like I said" She replied while rubbing her nose,trying to endure the burning sensation she felt. "So? We can just ditch class today." What she had forgotten was that we'd already been busted for ditching class before,and there would be no more warnings,next time we were both to be expelled,as said by the bitchy prep school principal,who was in fact a female.Her name was "Chloe Levingston",but she forced everyone to simply call her Miss Levingston.She didn't like the sound of Chloe,thought it made her too nice,too trusting,and too vulnerable to all the children. The fact is using the first name Chloe wouldn't have helped her at all,she was a b***h through and through.She didn't have to worry about kids thinking she was nice or trusting,or gaining any sense of influence from her.Everybody at Lincoln prep knew she was the biggest user of all of us.Sure she hid it well,hid those bloodshot and wandering eyes behind reflective shades,which she wore every damn day,even in the winter,she never took those darkened glasses off.She couldn't pull one over on me though,I could see the track marks lined as clear as day up and down her paper thin arms.Soon she caught on to my suspicion and started wearing long sleeved shirts,jackets,turtle necks. Anything to cover up her failure,her abuse,her vice,the fact that she was just like us ate away at her like a life threatening cancer,she knew deep down,she wanted and needed the most important thing of all,the best feeling ever imaginable,the almighty thrill of the fix. "Tiff,we have to go,you know that.One more strike and we are out,we can kiss those scholarships goodbye." Tiffany rolled her eyes at me,almost seeming like the bratty little sister,who was purposely disobeying her brother. "Alright Mr. Stanford university" Tiffany said with an overflowing hint of sarcasm behind her voice. "Let's go to school,sounds so fun." She stood up and immediately staggered forward,hitting her kneecap across the dusty table. "Babe,are you alright?" "Yeah,yeah I'm fine mad max" she said laughing in that cute,I'm a fun girl,but I can also rip your f*****g heart out kinda way,which is what she did best,or so I've been told.I can say this Tiffany was loyal to me through the entirety of our relationship,I just have this gut feeling about it.Sure I've been told once or twice,about her giving "Spence" a blowjob for under an ounce of weed back in freshman year,and true that really f*****g bothers me.But it was freshman year,I hadn't met tiff,until sophomore year.So how ever many dicks were sucked in the time prior was fair game for her.I loved her,or at-least I thought I did.But was I faithful to her throughout our bitter sweet relationship that started on a rainy day in 1980.And ended on a hot musty night in the summer of 1982,the quick answer,is hell no. "Are you sure,your okay?" I asked again,as I saw her push her dangling hair out of her eyes,that from years of constant smoking,has made her hair smell almost nauseating. "I am sure" she said with a stern tone. "Damn,all you do is worry,worry max." "Forcing me to go to school,after we did enough blow to paralyze a f*****g horse." Oh no here it comes,the famous fights with my loving,caring girlfriend "Tiffany Benson" what a joy this is going to be. "Am I the only one,who cares about the future?" I asked her slightly raising my voice. "The future?" She said as tears welled up in her eyes. "The future? How's this for a future." She then pulled out a roll of 100 dollar bills and threw it on the table,and it was slowly surrounded by the purest coke,any money could buy that time in Los Angeles,in 1982. "This" She then pointed at the dangerous addictions laying on the table begging to be consumed or spent. "This is our future max" My head dropped,as I was trying my best to avoid eye contact with her. "Look at me" I heard her voice say. "Baby,look at me" As I raised my head up,I could see blood easing its way,out of her nose. "Oh s**t,Tiffany." Tiffany,ripped one of the bills from the roll,and began to use it as a sponge to soak up the leaking blood. "Oops" She said,and she then crumbled the money,and put it in her mouth,chewed it up and swallowed,the cash. Cash that would not come so easily,to others who didn't have our life style,cash people work hours to get,while we are simply given the precious buck without reason,cash we couldn't fully understand the worth of,because we had and have the easiest walk through this painful thing we call life. She snickered,as I watched
blood drip down her top lip "Huh,rusty pipes" she said as the grin she was wearing,quickly faded into a frown.I then saw those bright blue eyes she had roll back into her skull,as she folded like a cheap lawn chair,and tumbled to the floor. My heart raced,the coke and fear mixed inside me like and unstable cocktail,the hair on my arms were no longer flat and still,but now raised like a child's hand in a silent classroom,begging to answer the question either he or she has been studying towards for weeks. I myself had a question,which I knew would be answered as soon as I grew some balls,and walked over to my thin,coked out girl friend. Is she dead or alive,is she still breathing? If not can I revive her? I did take "CPR" in junior year but only because my father had little incidents much like the one Tiffany is facing now. Many nights I would find him passed out on the living room floor. His shirt soaked in brandy,with the glass still laying on his chest. And his pants soaked in urine,because the lazy old man would rather piss himself,than walk to the toilet like a normal human being. I'd often change him,drag him to bed,then clean up the mess he'd made. But there were some nights I let him lay in his own self pity. And I'm not gonna lie sometimes I laughed,and giggled quietly trying not to wake him up. And the thought of him being dead,or choking on his own vomit through the night didn't scare or sadden me. It simply did not bother me. But now as I stand before Tiffany,with me prep school shirt half buttoned,and my trousers falling due to the belt that now lays across the hotels cheaply built kitchen counter. I'm afraid,that she might be dead. And wondering how I would feel if she was. I slowly walk to her "Tiff?" I ask softly. "Tiff?" I say again with no reply. At this time I dropped to my knees and struggling I turned her lifeless body to its side. Her eyes had completely rolled in the back of her head,and creamy,white,bubbly foam rolled down the creases of her mouth,that was slightly pink due to the mix of my blood that she'd still had caked on her teeth like plaque. She wasn't dead,at least not yet. I held her close and I began to rub her head gently. "Your gonna be okay." I said "We're gonna get outta here" her entire body began to shake. "Your gonna get better,we both will baby." "We're gonna get clean,we're gonna fix each other." Her eyes,closed and her breathing slowed abnormally. "No,no" I cried "Don't do this baby" I knew I was gonna lose her,her soul was slipping I could feel it in my bones. "Please! Don't leave" I rushed to the kitchen table,and next to the black belt was a trusty adrenaline needle that I'd bought less than two days prior from "Roland" he said and I quote. "With this s**t you don't need no jumper cables,this is guaranteed to kickstart that heart from 0-60 my friend" I tried not to read to much into that last part "Friend" everyone who knew "Roland" knew he was no friend to anyone, not even his highest paying client. I grabbed the needle. "This better work" I whispered quickly as I rushed back to her body. She was now laying on her back,completely dead,gone. "Tiff,I love you." I said as I stabbed into her chest plate with all my force. It was very difficult,I wasn't sure if the needle would penetrate the bone,but to my surprise it did. I also worried about blood,I worried if I would need a towel,possibly a beach towel depending on the amount. But there was none. I tired to jerk the needle back,but instantly slipped and stumbled backwards almost falling on my a*s. I floated back towards her,to see if those beautiful eyes finally opened. But still no sign of life coming from my true lust "Tiffany Benson" I fell on top of her crying. "I'm sorry tiff,I tried my best." Suddenly as my ear was pressed against her chest,getting wet and moist due to the tears flowing from my eyes.I could feel her inhale,and i could feel her heart start pumping once again. I hurried to my knees,and saw that her eyes were now open. "Oh my god,baby" I said as I kissed her head. "Baby your alive." She didn't say anything she just kept that deep,dark suicide bomber look. "Can you talk baby?" I said. She looked back and me and opened her mouth to speak,there was a long pause,and finally I heard the words "I think we should see other people."

Author's Note

This is the first draft to my latest writing piece. "ColorBlind" I usually write horror stories,but something inside me pushed me to begin writing this story. Within every story that I've ever written the idea usually sparks from similar occurrences that have happened in my own life. But with this story it's the complete opposite. I just turned eighteen,and the amount of responsibilty that I have in life,outweighs most kids my age. It's simple,I've had a job since I was fifteen,I have bills to pay,and people who depend on me. The thought of turning eighteen was one of both excitement and fear. I see all of the commitments I have now,and they will only grow as I become older. It peaked my interest to write about characters who simply have no responaiblity,and no consequences or sypmathy for any of they're actions. In writing this story my mind had to dabble in some things that I've never experienced. And take me to that place showing me how dark and lonely it would truly be. The moral of this story is to show that no ammount of money can buy happiness. And no amount of drugs can ease the loneliness in the teenage characters featured in my story. I hope you all enjoy,and they're is much more to come from this story. Regaurdless of the feedback,I feel very strongly about seeing the next step for these characters. Thank you for reading.