my skin will scream {theo and hat}

H A T.

Click.

The flame lights up and dances.

Click.

The flame goes out and spots form in front of my eyes.

Click.

The mahogany counter glistens.

Click.

Sticky darkness.

Cli-

"Look, if you're this goddamned board then get the fuck out of here Hat."

She doesn't have to tell me twice. I straighten from my slumped position across the bar's counter and head into the back room without a word. The only thing that's mine is a black leather jacket and a pack of cigarettes. I'm out the door before Celina can change her mind.

I've got more important shit to do tonight than man a bar on a Wednesday night.

I only had twenty minutes left anyway.

My gear is stashed behind a brick in the wall near the back door of the bar. I look up the alley first to make sure that no one's watching before I reach in and grab my gun and knife. The gun goes in my waist band, the blade in my shirt. Suddenly I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go.

It's been three weeks since I got home from training. I've always been patient but something about this current stream of self-destruction doesn't need waiting. My whole life has been leading up to it.

There's a party tonight. Getting an invitation was a fluke. I was walking back from the grocery store when one of Ian's old friends saw me walking. I gave him an excuse, I'd been living with my parents for the past year and they'd tried to make me go straight edge. I told him I was ready to get back into it. He failed to remember that I'd never been in it in the first place. Drugs were never and have never been my thing.

He didn't seem to remember that.

I know the address he tells me, remember it too easy. It's the same goddamned house that Ian overdosed in, where they let him lie dead on the floor for two hours before I got to him. If I had any doubts they're gone.

My fingers brush over the knife in my jacket before resting on the pack of cigarettes.

"Smoking's a goddamned dirty habit, Hat."

"Yeah, well so is heroine, mom."

I light one up, relief filling me as soon as the smoke starts to burn it's way into my lungs. I didn't realize how cold I was until that first drag. I can feel the smoke going in and down, curling around my insides but I don't hear my heart beating. I stop walking for a moment, listening to see if it's still there.

The sounds of the District permeates the side street I walk through, the sun long set.

ba-dump.

There it is.

I take another drag and keep walking.

The party's loud. I quicken my pace. If I don't move fast the peacekeepers are likely to arrive before I'm done. Someone greets me at the door, I recognize him from before. I think his name's Dillon.

"Yo Dillon, what's up," I say with a nod. I push past him and he replies with a hearty 'Yo!' Guess I got his name right.

The party's raging. There's a kid passed out on the couch and this guy's getting it from some jacked out girl in the corner. I push into the kitchen where this couple is making out, one of them fallen into the sink. A couple communal lines of cocaine sit on a mirror on the island in the middle of the kitchen beside a tray of cupcakes.

I nearly forgot just how goddamned much I didn't miss this.

I open the fridge and pull out a beer. It doesn't hurt to look the part. One measly beer isn't going to ruin anything. I drink it back and light up another cigarette, flicking my butt into the sink beside the couple. They don't even break apart long enough to notice me.

No one here has looked at me twice.

Perfect.

I wait for an hour, watching the rhythm of the party. It doesn't slow down, just gets louder, more manic. More people arrive and I see the ones I'm waiting for. I perk up a bit, stubbing my cigarette into my long empty beer can. I leave the corner, watching them interact with the party. One of the trio has a waster attached to his waist. A fresh bruise paints his eye purple and he's having trouble walking. At first I think it's because he's already high but then I see blood on the side of his face and a hand placed on his side, like he's trying to hold himself together.

I stare at them for a good long moment, ignoring the fact that the other two head right for the backyard. The one with the waster, I know his name, Jordan, sits him down on the piece of shit couch and pushes a few vials into his hands. He doesn't even watch his bitch as he gets himself high, just turns and talks to some people.

That was the same piece of shit couch Ian fucked himself over on.

I watch the kid for a moment. His hands shake as he plunges the needle into his arm. He gives himself the second before even letting the first one sink in. Jordan's making his way to the back of the house too. He's my interest tonight, not the wasted kid on the couch. I drop him from my head and head to the back too, pulling out my pack of cigarettes.

I wait for a bit, watching the three from the kitchen window. The couple that was trapped in the sink are gone, probably off to find somewhere comfortable to fuck. There are sounds coming from the pantry. I can't judge.

There's a sound from the living room, people laughing and some high pitched screams. If they get any louder the peacekeepers will be here any minute.

I've been thinking about this for a long time.

I take a cigarette out and go out the back door, past the trio, tripping myself up. ("Wait, who the fuck is that,") I stumble against the wall of the house and laugh at myself. ("Just some drunk asshole, ignore him.") I put my cigarette in between my lips and fumble with my lighter for a bit, watching them out of the corner of my eye.

Elicia, the girl, has a needle in her hand.

"Boss wants us distributing this now?" whines Ted, the other boy.

I get my cigarette lit. Jordan takes the needle from Elicia, holds it up to the light given by the back porch and stares at the vial. He flicks it with a finger. "What's so special about it?" he asks in a bored tone.

"Longer, faster high," says Elicia.

I fumble with my lighter for a bit longer before finally catching the end of my cigarette.

"How much?" I ask.

The three of them pause and look at me like they forgot that I existed.

"What?" asks Jordan. He looks affronted.

"How much for the good shit?" I ask, slurring my words.

Jordan looks at Elicia, out of his element. I take that as my cue to stumble over to them, letting my cigarette fall out of my mouth. Ted steps over to stamp it out.

Elicia looks at me, tiny brain trying to calculate a price that'll seem fair to a wasted kid. She narrows her eyes at me and I grin back at her, having spent far too much time actually drunk to mess this up.

"Sixty bucks."

"Sure."

Jordan still has the vial in his hands and Ted stands beside Elicia, staring into the house. I look where he's looking. The pantry door has been opened and the couple are fucking against a shelf of baking goods.

I reach into my jacket and wrap my fingers around the hilt of the switchblade in my pocket. The party is loud, not loud enough for a gun shot. Jordan wraps his hands around my wrist.

"Hey," I say mildly, letting go of the knife in favour of my wallet.

He pulls my arm away from my jacket and lets go when he sees the wallet in my hands. Guess I have to get more creative.

"How many vials do you have?" I ask Elicia. I take three hundred dollars out of my wallet like it's monopoly money, "And do you have needles for them?"

She sets up five for me. I hand her the money and she hands me the drugs. My hands are shaking like I need it, but it's not from withdrawal.

"So how potent are these? Am I going to need more than one hit?" I ask.

"One's more than enough," says Elicia, not even paying attention to me anymore. She's busy counting the money she's just made and putting it in her wallet.

"Cool."

I take one vial and grab her by the arm, plunging it into her vein. Ted stares for a moment before reaching out to stop me, movements slow. He's already had a hit or two. I plunge a needle into his arm too, fist flying into his face first.

Jordan's behind me, I've lost the gain that initial shock might have given me. I don't care. I want to hurt Jordan. I duck and Jordan's fist goes flying into Ted's face. Elecia is sitting on the ground, dazed. Ted goes down too.

I turn and punch Jordan in the gut, watching as he doubles over. I pick up a needle from where I dropped them on the ground and shove three into his arm. He screams as I plunge them, knowing exactly what they'll do to him. He was always a straight edge, never tasted his own product, unlike poor ted.

He falls back, the juice flying through his veins and taking him away fast. He can't move anymore so I let him go down, knowing full well that I've just murdered him.

He was there that night Ian died. He watched him do the same.

Elicia smiles softly at me as I take my money back out of her pocket. I dig through her back pack and find a bag full of vials. There's another full of needles, tips protected by a small bit of silicone. I prep four more and shove them all into their skin, one by one.

Walking back into the house through the kitchen, past the fucked up fucking couple in the pantry and into the living room is simple.

The waster is on the floor now, eyes shut.

I bend down and place my fingers against his neck.

ba-dump.

People are stepping over him.

I slip Elecia's backpack over my shoulder and pick him up. Jordan isn't coming back for him tonight.

I leave by the back door, stepping over bodies.

I lock the fence behind us on our way out.

I'm not an animal.