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
(Just a
reminder: Writing My New Story is a
work of fiction. Any resemblance to
anyone you might know is purely coincidental.)
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