January 16, 2014, 4:55 A.M
I should be sleeping, but I can’t seem to get myself to fall asleep. It’s only Thursday, and I’ve already been drunker and higher than I have ever been. I have no idea what this weekend is going to be like. Beth was flush with cash and drugs from her new connection. She was dealing for someone in one of the local gangs, of course, I wasn’t thrilled about it, but my opinion never matters to her. It seems like I’m just the eye candy for her. Beth is the butch type, but like pretty butch. She’s bigger, around one hundred and fifty pounds and only five foot six, so she had some weight to her. She preferred her hair short, but she had a pretty face. Her tough exterior is what attracted me to her in the first place. Feeling protected is a big deal for me, and when you are a lesbian, there are only so many options out there if you are looking to feel safe.
Personally, I’ve never found men attractive before. Yes, I can look at one and know they are good looking, I’m not blind. But I’ve never looked at one and thought, damn I want to fuck that. Beth really likes that I’m pure in that sense. Never even had another guy’s lips on mine. She seems to hate anyone who isn’t gay or straight. She doesn’t care if you are straight as long as you stay straight. She doesn’t believe in experimenting or someone being bi-sexual or transgender. She thinks it’s all bullshit that society is allowing people to get away with. Me, I don’t care who you are, as long as you are happy. Isn’t that the whole point in life? To be happy? I’m still working on that part.
Beth and I met six months ago when I returned to London from the States. My parents had sent me there for University. They said it would be better for me to be more globally experienced. That living in the United States was every person’s dream. And with them both being lawyers and coming from a lawyer based family, off I went to law school. A year hadn’t even past before I was quitting and fleeing back to London. My family hasn’t forgiven me for it and still to this day tries to get me to agree to go back and not shame our family by being some dropout. Kinda funny really. My family is ashamed and embarrassed because I don’t want to be a lawyer, and I’m not working towards a fancy degree, but they don’t give a shit about me liking pussy over dick. That’s how fucked up my blood family is. Honestly, I’ve found myself envying people with horrific coming out stories, despite their supportive nature it made me want to exaggerate how bad they were. Maybe if we were closer, I wouldn’t need to find a family in my LGBT community.
That community is why I’m sitting here at almost five in the morning on the side of the tub in my girlfriend’s bathroom trying to figure out how I got so damn fucked up tonight. I can’t figure out where my life went wrong, and this is exactly the problem with doing too much cocaine. You can’t sleep, and your mind starts thinking about all the shit that has happened in your life. Everything was so much simpler when I was younger. I thought the hardest thing I would go through was finding out I was gay. Yet, it was simple. My family just said ok and asked if I liked anyone at school. Like we were talking about the weather. It didn’t even phase them. I had been so worried about telling them. My stomach was in knots, and I spent an hour in the bathroom throwing up before I got the nerve to go down for dinner. I had heard so many stories from other gay kids in my school and around the community about how their parents kicked them out, attacked them. I was terrified that mine would be the same, but I knew I couldn’t keep it hidden. I didn’t want to. And all they had to say was ok. All that worry for nothing.
So when the time came when I told them I wanted to be an artist, I didn’t even hesitate. After all, how could they not encourage me on my dreams when they supported me with my sexual orientation? But boy was I wrong. They lost their shit. Went on and on about how I wouldn’t disgrace this family by being some common artist living an unfulfilled life. To them being an artist was a quick jump to drugs, poverty, and homelessness. Ha, jokes on them I’m not an artist and I’m still into drugs, crashing on friends’ couches. The only difference is I’m not making my paintings that provide me with a sense of purpose and peace. I’m miserable, I know I am. The drugs just give me the ability to say it and see it. But I have no idea how I’m ever going to get out of this. I could leave London, but where would I go? I’d only end up with no place to live. At least here I know I can sleep under someone’s roof.
I need to start figuring out a plan. Beth is getting deeper and deeper into the drugs and the gang, it’s only a matter of time before I’ll be forced to do something for them or she’ll be arrested. If I keep depending on Beth I’m going to get screwed. A flash of light outside of the bathroom window catches my attention. I got up and carefully looked outside, I could just make out the police moving around the house.
“Shit.” I whispered.
I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but the next thing I knew, I was quickly running out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Beth was sound asleep, I went to work on throwing on a pair of shorts and my sandals before grabbing my bag. As I turned to leave, ready to run from the house, I stopped and looked over to the bedside table. I knew I didn’t have long. The police would be coming in here within minutes, but Beth was going to be arrested. There were enough drugs in this house to put her away for ten years. It wouldn’t be wrong for me to look out for myself. Quickly, I went over to the bedside table and started to remove the stash of cash that she had taped to the back of it. I threw it into my bag, running to the kitchen, doing the same to the money in the freezer. I had no idea how much it would be, but it would be more than what I had. I could see the lights getting closer, I had to go.
I ran for the back of the house to one of the side windows that faced the side alley between the houses. I did a quick check,
there were no cops, so I climbed out of the window, dropping to the ground. I stayed there until I heard the doors being kicked open and then I ran with everything in me, not caring to look back.