3. Mommy & Daddy Love You To Death
I told him I would laminate a copy of the drug test report for him. He reacted as if he’d hit the lottery. I asked him about being nineteen with ten years of drug abuse under his belt.
“My folks lived off my dad’s inheritance. Life was one big party. We drank wine with dinner from the time we were little. Dad called it ‘going European.’ When my twin and me turned ten, my mom threw a ‘double digit’ party. We got to eat brownies from the grown-up tray. When we were thirteen she coached us on how to get Adderall from the doctor. My mom would tell us, ‘when the world’s dragging you down, you gotta get a little high to break even.’
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, picking at the seam of his t-shirt. “They loved us. My dad wanted to give us the best childhood money could buy. That included the best weed and wine. If we had a hard day at school, my mother would hug us and give us her Valium. She didn’t see any reason for people she loved to be unhappy. She almost loved my sister to death.” I didn’t say anything, as I thought of the people I’d known who had loved someone to death.
Today I will remember drugs can turn even love deadly.
Writing My New Story © 2015 by Ken Montrose
Other publications available at: http://www.amazon.com/Ken-Montrose/e/B001K8MG0S
(Just a reminder: Writing My New Story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone you might know is purely coincidental.)