The Willow Tree: Prologue

     Have you ever noticed how dark the sky gets before it snows? The clouds become thick enough to hide mountains behind them, and suddenly, snow begins to fall. These are the things I find myself thinking about at the strangest times. My mind can only handle so much at once. So, I venture off into my own little world and give a slight nod when I hear the pitch of a voice raising into a question. It never fails.

     But, what do you do when your mind forces you to think thoughts that you wish you wouldn't think? Sounds confusing. How do you occupy your own mind from bringing up terrible memories? That's the question I was trying to come up with. Really though, do you think about the weather, or food? Do you let yourself imagine what the clouds are shaped like? Or do you just let your memories engulf you and pray that it will end soon.

     I'm starting to believe that I was destined to live life covering up all the little peices of my past that in the end, all end up to be very large sections. You find yourself trying to forget the first man that ever broke your heart, or the day when your brother walked out the door never to come back. You naturally want to throw those things out the window and lock them out without a "Thank You" or "Come Again". I find myself walking through the same pattern everyday of every week. I've realized that once something different starts to happen, I dispose of it so I can get back to my normal routine.

     So what happens when you can't go back to normal routine? I think that's where my story should start. A simple break of routine...

This is my story.

 

 

One.

     Jena woke up early Saturday morning. That was usually what happened. Waking up at 7 am every morning to go to school becomes embedded into one's mind, and eventually- Saturdays last a lot longer than they should. Whatever. She rolled out of bed and checked the messages she missed last night on her phone.

David "Hey chick. I got some CD's we can burn. Just call me back."

Lynn "Jena, where the hell are you? You were supposed to meet me at the tree at 1. Well, if you don't get back to me, I'm not holding your s**t. It's too dangerous."

     She took a deep breath and yawned. Every morning I wake up and I owe someone this much, and I need to pick up this s**t. She thought about how messed up some of her friends were going to be when they were all grown and old. Can't possibly be worse than me, I guess.

     Jena grew up in a small town in the south. She moved up north when she was entering high school, and met people she normally wouldn't talk to in a million years. Now, a sophomore, she is in all the wrong groups, and gets into all the worst trouble. Every month the school has a drug bust. Every single month. She has never had more fun in her life. Or more to worry about.

     "Hey, David," She was still trying to get woken up.

     "Hey girl, what's happening?"

     "Sorry I missed your call last night. I fell out bad last night. You wouldn't believe it."

     "You promised me that you would take it easy on the dust. Jena, when are you going to realize how dangerous that s**t is?"

     "I thought we had business to talk, man. You're wasting my time. You going to get me some s**t or do I need to find a new guy?"

    " Alright, meet me out at the tree in half an hour. You're going to owe me for this, you know that right? I don't do free."

     The tree is the spot. The spot. The spot that all teenagers want to have, but can never really find. In Jena's area, the tree is where all the guys meet up and light up, or hang out, or whatever they want to do. It's secluded, uninviting, and completely secret. Well, so they say.

     A half hour later David walks up to the tree with a cigarette in his mouth. He pulls out his cell phone just as Jena leaps from a low branch and lands perfectly on her feet.

     "You told me that money wasn't going to be necessary this time you jackass."

     "It's not, if you give me something else. I don't need cash Jena. I have plenty of that . No, I need something much more satisfying than that."

     "Well, let's at least light up first so I don't have to remember it."

     This was typical of her. She realized she could get just about anything from a guy if she wore the right clothes and said the right things. All she had to do to get what she needed, was give them a little bit of what they wanted. David was the only guy that ever demanded sex for drugs though. Most guys just made it an option. 

     Jena would do anything to help anybody that she could out. She would also turn around and knock your lights out if need be. She was independent, and stayed to herself most of the time. Unless, of course, there was some big party to hit up. Then she was there, and very hard to miss. You could spot her brown and hot pink hair from a mile away, and when she was fucked up, she went crazy.

     And that's why people loved her.

 

Two.

     David sat in the very last stall of the boys bathroom. He had become so dependent on his drugs that he couldn't even make it through the school day without snorting a line. After school that day he would go visit Jena and get her money. Every Wednesday she gave him the cash and the order, and every Friday, they met up to exchange again, and share.

    It was a dirty job, being the go to guy when it came to drugs...but he figured Someone's got to do it,I guess. Yes. It's not as reliable as other jobs, but it pays a hell of a lot better. And that's how he'd lived his life for the past few years.

     A door opened and it was all that he could do to just put clean up his leftovers.  He heard steps. Not pathetic, teenager hiding to text in the bathroom steps, but man steps. He heard the slow thumping, thumping, thumping of an adult searching the stalls for fowl business. 

     Quick! Quick! You've got to think quick! David shouted to himself in the privacy of his mind. Oh God. If I was sober I wouldn't be this paranoid. Just...just pretend like you're sober man. Just pretend like he has nothing to bust you for.

     "David? David, is that you?"

Three.

     Lynn looked like the kind of girl that you'd give your money to if you passed her on the street. Plain and simple, she dressed in the exotic fashions that most Goodwill stores have to offer, with her own, homemade jewalry. A hippie, to be simple about it. Nothing thrilled her more than to have no plans and then end up with 6 or 7 people to hang out with and light up with after school.

     Today didn't seem like it would be one of those days though. She knew something was wrong with David when he asked to be excused during class. That's one long a*s s**t, she thought.  So she went to the boy's bathroom to see what he was up to. If he wasn't in good condition...well, it's not like it would be the first time she's had to carry his passed-out a*s to the hospital. But, god damn, never when he was in school.

     "David? David, is that you?"

     She heard his voice utter something uncomprehendable. S**t. What am I going to do about this? He can't be seen or caught like this.

     "David, I want you to unlock the stall you're in and I'll come and help you." She heard a clicking sound as he followed her directions. Good. He can at least understand me still. She went to look at him. Oh god. Oh no, no no. Oh God! What am I going to do?

     His eyes were so red it looked like they were encrusted with blood and red food coloring had been poured into them as drops. He had saliva and sweat running down his cheek and meeting at his chin. His head was rested on the toilet seat, half a line left to snort,  and he was completely unable to function past breathing and blinking.

     Great. Lynn thought. Just great. It's a good thing they've got windows low to the ground in these bathrooms, pal. Or else, you'd be fucked. We'd both be fucked.

 

 

 

 

  

Author's Note

This is a story about teenagers falling into the trap that we know today as drugs.