The drug quickly became the most important thing to her in the whole entire world. Her brain cells thirsted for it every single second of every single day, and Jonathan regretted having ever introduced her to the “white devil”. Over the years, he guiltily watched Sondra succumb to that devil’s every irrational command. There was nothing that she wouldn’t do to dance with that devil. Nothing. When Jonathan had quit supplying Sondra with her heart’s desire in an effort to rehabilitate the far-gone teenage junkie, she quickly learned that she could solicit her body to continue supporting her habit without having to depend on his funds in order to do so. In essence, she no longer needed him. Even though he did provide her with a roof over her head, she would have been content living out of a nature-made cove as long as she could have the devil take over her soul whenever she felt like having him do so.
As much as it pained Jonathan to keep the drug away from her - a hard drug user himself, he knew the ramifications of stopping usage of such a potent drug all of a sudden - he refused to ease up off of his no-tolerance stance. The effect of his decision: Sondra turned to the streets of Indiana to quell her fix. Despite doing everything that he possibly could to keep her inside of his life, the relationship between Jonathan and Sondra eventually fizzled. All she was concerned about was that goddamn high. She wanted to always remain in that realm where her mind wasn’t concerned with the abundance of problems in her rueful world. She loved the way that the devil escorted her to heaven. In her state of temporary mental euphoria, she wasn’t concerned about the cataclysmic way in which her and Mr. Peck’s relationship had come to an end (something that she thought about far too often when she wasn’t high); she forgave herself for being a contemptible young slut to get what she wanted; she could care less about how her biological mother was faring back in Yarmouth with her bellicose husband; she felt no remorse whatsoever for having put Jonathan through what she put him through; and she had absolutely no reservations about being a homeless young woman with no clear goals set for her future. But whenever the effects of the stimulant would begin to wear off, Sondra’s mind would focus three times as hard on everything that she was taking the stimulant to avoid thinking of in the first place, and she would damn near lose it. The dysphoria she experienced when sober, coupled with all of the bullshit running through her mind and actually going on in her daily life, was enough to keep in a slump for days at a time if she didn’t have sufficient funds to remain constantly high. But the truth of the matter was: cocaine wasn’t a cheap drug.
The price of the drug was particularly exaggerated in Silver Valley due to the high probability for persons living there to strike it rich at any given time or day. Once residents there had attained a certain level of financial success, it was customary for them to be extremely profligate in their spending. For the region’s affluent, maintaining a healthy cocaine diet was a way of showing off one’s financial accomplishments. Sondra was out of her league in Silver Valley. She couldn’t afford to maintain her addiction there. She would have to relocate to an area of the state where the drug was sold cheaper on a more competitive market. In order to reunite with the devil, Sondra would have to make her way down south.