Fading to Black // Kirk Hammett

26. Couldn't Stay Away

August 20th, 1984

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I was sitting in the back of the tour bus smoking what was my 3rd or 4th joint. The guys were all backstage getting ready, since the show started in about twenty or so minutes.

In the past month it's started to become a tradition for me.

Getting high pre-show.

Only off of my sweet love, mary-jane though. No hard drugs, nobody lets me near those.

For the most part, I had reached a point where I didn't care about the hard drugs anymore, I had too much too risk by shooting up again.

The first few weeks I had cravings for it, I felt like I needed it or I'd die on the spot. As time went on though, I found things to replace it with.

However I never got over that god forsaken empty feeling, but the insufferable sadness that would constantly wash over me had started to subside.

I still feel numb 99% of the time, but that's why I smoke and drink. So that way I'm not a buzzkill for everyone else, and so that I could still try to maneuver around the feeling myself.

I hate feeling absolutely nothing, all the fucking time. Sometimes it's tempting to go snort a line of Juniors coke when he's not looking, but I manage to refrain myself.

It's just a never ending void, it's like a piece of me is just gone. Everything in my life is in a somewhat steady place for the most part, but it just doesn't stop that feeling.

Like a piece of my soul is gone, a piece of what once had belonged to my heart.

I thought things with Dave would help it go away, but it doesn't. Nothing fucking takes it away, except for fucking heroin, but of course that's not an option for me anymore.

Also to whom it may concern, I never did end up talking to Kirk. I was devastated about it, because I really did want to hear what he had to say. However, Megadeth had to leave for tour a week before the metallica guys had even gotten back.

I was beyond upset, but I only took as a sign. Maybe me and Kirk just weren't meant to talk things out, or whatever the point of that conversation would've been.

I finished off my joint, and lifted myself from the chair I had been sitting in. Unsatisfied with my current state, I quickly took the bottle of Jack out of the small mini fridge, and drank it as I walked off the bus.

Who would I be if I didn't drink a little?

I made my way over towards the venue, quickly flashing my pass towards the security guard so he'd let me backstage.

I continued drinking from the bottle in my hand, as I walked towards the dressing rooms. I heard moaning from Juniors, so I knew not to go in there.

I walked over to Dave's, lightly knocking on the door. I set the bottle of Jack down beside the door frame before walking in.

"Hey babe." He smiled at me.

"Hey Davey." I drunkenly giggled to myself.

He raised an eyebrow at me in suspicion.

Don't know if I mentioned this, but I'd also became a pretty heavy drinker. Which he wasn't fond of, whatsoever. Hypocritical as it was, since he drank like there was no tomorrow.

He looked at me, slightly irritated as he pressed his lips into a thin line, and walked to open his dressing room door.

He looked down at the floor, to the left side of the doorframe, then snapping his neck to look at me, with his suspicions being confirmed.