"We fought an uphill battle. One we had no hope of winning."
~~~
Felicity-Flick as most call her-Carter, has learned a thing or two in her 12 years of life. How to deal with drunk parents without waking the neighbors, how to smoke a cigarette withou...
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"You look like shit," Cameron growled lowly at my blunt observation, but didn't bother looking up at me as I swung myself through my open bedroom window. His gaze stayed glued to the building across the street. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the smell of tobacco and puke radiating off him in naustiating waves. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I sat beside him on the fire escape steps cautiously. "And you smell like it too."
"What do you want, Flick?" He grunted, sounding more defeated than angry.
"I want to know what the fuck just happened." I grabbed the carton of cigarettes and the lighter from my brother's jacket pocket. He didn't try to stop me. He didn't even move.
"You shouldn't smoke, you know. Bad for your lungs."
"Heroin's worse." Came my quick reply.
He hummed, taking another drag of the cigarette. "Probably." It was obvious that he wasn't completely sober yet. His foggy brained response and red rimmed eyes told me that much. I had no clue how long it had been since he last used. A few hours, I could assume. Not long enough for the drugs to have worked out of his system.
"So tell me, what the fuck just happened?" I'd left him alone for the last hour, despite my restless hankering to come and talk to him. I had hoped in that time, Cam would get not only more sober but more rational as well, and thankfully it seems that at least one of those had happened.
"Fuck," He muttered under his breath. "Fuck, I don't even know, Flick. Just got so...bad, so quickly. I don't even know." I looked up at my brother. I had seen the signs of drugs more than once in my short life. Hollowed cheeks, pale complexion, empty eyes. It was nothing I was unfamiliar with. Nothing I shouldn't be able to handle. But watching my brother sit there in the dim glow of the street lights, cigarette smoke and defeat filling the air around him, it felt different than anything I was used to. It felt bitter. It felt cold. It felt hopeless. And wrong. Most of all, it just felt wrong.
"I tried to stop it. Last night I mean," Cameron muttered more to himself than to me. I took a drag of my cigarette and sat quietly, waiting for him to continue. "Fuck, I tried to stop it. Nick said it would be fun. I knew I should've done it with him, but I thought it would be a good time." He sniffled, shaking his head. "It wasn't, Flick. It wasn't a good time. 'S never a good time."
"So why'd you do it?" I asked curtly.
He sighed, sniffling again in the cold Demember air. "You know it really was the first time I ever did it. I smoke weed and I drink, but fuck, I don't usually do that shit." He leaned back against the staircase, closing his eyes and pushing out yet another cloud of sour smelling smoke. I copied him, keeping my own eyes open to look up at the city sky I loved so much. The only bit of familiarity I had in this world anymore.
"So answer my question. Why'd you do it."
Cameron opened his eyes. "Where're the rest of 'em," He asked, once again avoiding my question.
