Diary of a junkie 5: It seems I can’t break free


By Garnet
There are something other people run from and most others run to

I remember thanking Stephen for coming into my life, but I don’t remember the remaining parts of the journey. Next thing I know, someone’s giving me a pat on my shoulder and telling me we’re home.
I came down from the car and walked towards the door. I don’t know what the time was saying, but it was already dark. Stephen made for the house of his gateman while I went inside.
Once inside, all feelings and air of confidence seeped out of me. Reality began to dawn on me, and finally the question that I had shoved from center stage on my mind sprung forth and this time was not letting go.
Who was this guy? What has he said or done that’s given me this level of trust in him?
All of a sudden it occurred to me that nobody knew where I was, and if something out of the ordinary were to happen, how do I save myself?
I had moved on from smoking left overs of weed from my uncle’s room at the age of fourteen go finally having my own wrap of weed at eighteen courtesy of Stephen.
I had my first cocktail of codeine and marijuana in a place far off from school or home with law enforcement agents, government officials and the scum of the earth and I knew I was sinking deeper into the black hole of addiction.
I had grown to trust him so much but had no idea who he was, where he came from or what he was about.
I was lost in thoughts when …
“Are you OK, why’re you Standing?”
First, I didn’t realize I was Standing. I didn’t also hear him come in. I had to drag myself back to reality and feign a smile.
“Of course, I’m OK. I’m lightheaded, and have a headache.”
“If that’s the case, you shouldn’t be Standing,”
 He was nudging me lightly to the closest chair, and taking my bag.
“Sit down let me go get you some aspirin. You’ll be fine in less than no time.”
“What have I gotten myself into? Why was this dude so…perfect?” Or so I thought.
“Here you go,” he said from behind me and handed me a glass of water and two white tablets.
Panadol apparently. I swallowed the drug and handed him the glass.
I managed to Stand up and turn off the lights. The television was on, and it had enough light to illuminate the sitting room. Besides, the red light coming from the dining room made the whole atmosphere serene and peaceful.
Stephen sat beside me and massaged my leg while we saw 24.
It was season 4, I think. All the scenes leading to the death of David Palmer. 24 is a movie I have seen countless of times, and it’s amongst the movie I can’t get tired of.
But, on this particular night, I wasn’t keen on seeing Jack Bauer save the world.
I leaned into the seat, and it felt like that was my first time there.
I was at Stephen’s place the previous day, but marijuana seemed to be the only thing I cared about so I did not bother about the things around me.
“Who was this guy? Macho and terrifying on one side. Calm, sweet and soft on the other side.”
The TV was a flat screen, 82 inches. The home theaters stood on either side of the television. In the middle, there was a round black center rug, with the face of a brown tiger. On it was a glass round table with multiple color flowers in a silver vase.
There was a white couch at the far end of the room, beside it was a black bin bag. He had two black sofas opposite the couch, and a stuffed dog between them. The walls of the sitting room were a sparkling white.
The wall that housed the electronics was just breathtaking. It was a splash of multiple colors, a sharp contrast to the white walls.
His dining room had four seats on the opposite ends of the table. There was a fridge on the far end of the wall. The table was covered with a turquoise lace table cloth.
On it, a bunch of white roses stood proudly in a colored ceramic vase. The walls of the dining room were sky blue. The window was covered with white blinders. The walls of the sitting room had different arts, in all kinds of colors, and each telling its own story. There were tons of throw pillows in all colors scattered round the sitting room. There was this glow, and a certain aura of peace.
Stephen was so engrossed in his movie. David Palmer was heading to the window that gave the sniper a better shot.
I took a stroll. There was a door just after the dining room. That turned out to be the visitors’ convenience. There was another door in the dinning, and it led to the kitchen.
It was spotless. It had a red cabinet that stretched from wall to wall. On the other end was a double sink. The gas cooker stood shinning beside it. There were towels neatly arranged on one end of the wall, in different sizes and different colors. I got to learn later of their different roles.
There were three doors in the kitchen. I came through from one. One of the other door led to the back porch. The last door led to a long hall. The rest of the house was this way.
There were four doors. Two on each side. The first led to what looked like a study. One wall had a floor to ceiling book shelf. The windows were covered with brown blinders. The walls were painted with brown. On the table, there was a printer, a computer and an apple laptop. There were a couple of framed pictures. An older woman, himself, two beautiful ladies, and another with a beautiful girl. The lady in the picture was sitting on a couch. She had on a blue gown. She wore her natural hair, and it fell to her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her smile was just bliss. From the picture one can easily tell whoever was in that frame was an angel.
“He seemed so organized,” I said to myself as I continued to scan the room.
“That’s my girlfriend, Gloria.”
I jumped.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Stephen was saying as he came into the study. He stood behind me and picked a frame.
“These are my sisters, Mary and Chinenye. They’re both married and live in Canada. This is my mum,” He said, raising the other frame with a single woman.
She was petite and looked really happy. Stephen’s face had this glow when he talked of his mom and his sisters.
The door opposite the study was the visitor’s room. The drapes were green. The walls were a light yellow. The bed was in the middle of the room. This room had its fair share of art and antique.  The closet was beside the bed. There was another door and it was the bathroom. All white and cosy.
We continued our tour and ended at the master bedroom.
My mouth dropped open.
“Stephen was really a riddle,” I thought.
In the middle of the room was a round bed, neatly dressed. The closet was transparent. There was a dresser on one side with plenty of bottles with different labels. There were stuffed animals everywhere. The walls were full of arts.
The air conditioner stood proudly beside the dresser. He had pictures of his mom and sisters here too. There was another door in here too that led to the bathroom.
The jacuzi was inviting. There was a tall mirror opposite the jacuzi. White towels were stacked neatly on a cabinet. There was a metal bucket close to the sink. There we
re bottles of shampoo and conditioner neatly arranged on one end.
“You should shower while I get dinner ready. Your things are in the closet. I’ll be in the sitting room.”
With that, he was out of the room. I got out of my clothes and got into the bath. I remained soaked for a while, and let my mind wander. Too many things going on in my head at once.
“What can I say or do that’s going to show me who this guy really is? How about we just talk? Is he the type that’ll lie?”
I got out of the bath, got dressed in shorts and a tank top, and then made for the kitchen. Stephen was done with dinner, and was lounging on the floor in front of the television. Dinner was bread, tea, jam and gravy. We saw 24 while having a quiet dinner.
David Palmer had died long ago, and Jack Bauer was still looking for his killers.
“Who are you Steve?”
I was as surprised as he was because I didn’t realize I was saying anything.
“What do you mean who am I?”
There was no backing out now.
“I’m a very vulnerable person. I already trust and like you so much it would hurt to find out you’re not as nice and as decent as the person I’ve spent the last 24hours with.”
He was quiet for a long time. He just ate. I didn’t also say anything. If that was the end of the conversation, well I got my answer.
I was taking the last slice of bread when I heard Stephen talk again.
“I’m not one to pretend. I might have this macho, no nonsense approach, but I’m nice. I had to learn to be a man, and defend my mom & siblings as a teenager. My dad bailed on my mom, so I decided to not be the man my father was. In his words, he said; “I don’t believe smoking dope makes me a bad person. I’m all macho and might look irresponsible, but I got my head screwed on straight. I won’t take you for granted, I promise. I’ll just be your friend and partner in crime.”
With that, he leaned in and gave me a light kiss on my forehead.
He looked at the time and exclaimed. It was two hours past midnight.
“Let’s go sleep darl. We have a long day ahead.”
Like a puppet, all thoughts of trying to find out at least what exactly was going to happen seeped out of my mind.
All I could think about was the next scheme Stephen’s got up his sleeves.
Sometimes, we find we’ve been in the dark for so long and just want to come home. But then, where’s home? That’s the one question we always find a way to answer wrongly.

0 thoughts on “Diary of a junkie 5: It seems I can’t break free

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