|June 2014|
I took another swig of the bottle as I sat on the edge of the curb, the coffee cups stepped and spilled onto the sidewalk. The gas station clerk did give me a weird look, but when I asked for the strongest bottle he had, his face soften a lot. He gave me two on the house.

I could no longer think. My mind felt hazy.

That’s when I decided to get up and walk back to the venue. I would have to face them sooner or later. I just don’t know how they found me. Why me? I’ve already suffered enough. Why me?

---

I took the long way back. Just taking random gulps of the alcohol. I listened to each footstep that hit the sand. Gravel and tiny grains of sand would spill into my shoe every now and then, but I couldn’t complain. It was nice out here than it is in that alley.

Everything started when I was fifteen, thinking about unzipping my veins, and here I am 12 years later, slowly developing an alcohol addiction. I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.

Murders, and rapists, and attackers exist, having no purpose in life but making someone else’s miserable and here I am, just here, waiting for one of the three to come for me.

That’s when I fell to the ground, crying my lungs out. Getting my fresh blood all over the pavement. It’s just not fair! Why does everybad thing has to happen to me? why not Tyler? Or Scout, or Andy, or anyone, no, it’s always fucking me. I finally choose to believe in God and what, the one good thing I got was dating Beau? Big whoop. I lost my child and currently, my sanity.

---

Somehow, I found my courage and found myself opening the door to my brother’s tour bus. It was empty. No surprise. I stumbled into the bathroom and took a look at my mascara stained face. Jesus, I didn’t think I put that much on. The streaks were coming down just as fast as the tears. I walked to the bunks and sat down, sighing as my butt came in contact with the cool floor.

I finally released a sob as I let my phone fall to my lap and I took another long swig of wine as I felt more tears coming. I didn’t fight them as I closed my eyes and when I heard the phone ringing it’s iPhone default ringtone, I ignored it, just letting my mind wander until finally, after the third time the phone rang I couldn’t take it anymore.

I picked the phone up off my lap and I immediately whipped it across the room, using all the strength I could muster up in that moment to get that fucking thing as far away from me as possible.
I didn’t even flinch as the phone hit the opposite bunk with a loud bang, echoing throughout the room and the screen bursted into lines and shards. It was silent once again and I realized too late that that was a very bad thing.

My mind was racing, spinning, yelling at me. I couldn’t take the silence and I couldn’t take the noise. I let out a strangled scream and I launched the wine bottle at the bunk, right where I had thrown my phone and I started to sob as the glass shattered and red liquid coated the wood, running down it until it started to pool in the light colored carpet. I was still crying as I stood to my feet, stumbling and falling as I made my way to my bunk, crawling into it and wrapping myself in the blanket.

---

I woke up to the pounding of my head, throbbing as if it had its own heartbeat. Although I feel and probably look like shit, it’s no point of living in the past. I want out, I want home, and I want it now.

I pulled back the curtain to see the evidence of last night existing. The glass, the wine stain, and my phone.

I grabbed a fresh pair of clothes and got showered, dressed, in all under fifteen minutes and was finding my way to the Attila tour bus. I had only one thing set in mind and that was to get high off my ass. I banged on the bus door and crossed my arms, leaning against it for support. I hear some shouting going on before the bus door opened.

“Whoa, Lights right?” I nodded. Chris looked at me, squinting his eyes. “You wanna get high?” I nodded. He smiled. “Well, you’ve come to the right bus!”

---

I let my eyes travel over the area of the tour bus, just thinking about how much better it would be if there were about a thousand cats on it with a box of tacos. Yeeeeaaaaa. That sounds bout right.

“You know what-you know what?” Chris asked while he was talking with this hand. The one that currently held the blunt. I shrugged my shoulders as I stared at the bong I used. It was blue. “I just realized-I just realized,” He shook a bit before squinting his eyes. “I have alcohol in the back.” I slumped further in the couch, taking a deep –weed stench– breath. The bong is empty.

“We need cats.” He said while passing me the blunt after taking a hit.

“Yessssss.” I agreed with a quick head nod before passing it back to him. “Ryan used to get high.” Chris turned and stared at me.

“You are so hot.”

“I know.” I let my head loll a bit the side. Being high makes me feel, weightless, and childlike. I put my hands out in front of me and stare at them. They still have healing scars, but the scars look like rivers. Rivers are everywhere. There’s over three hundred rivers in the country Siberia. I think. Siberia. That’s an awesome name for a song.

I always wanted to open for Green Day. Just playing acoustic songs and then they could begin with 21 Guns. I love that song. Billie Joe Armstrong is hot.

What if I just start a new band? I could make Lights a band…..nooooo. I have Maurie and Adam.

But a whole new band………..

Hmm…..interesting.

“Hey Li-hey Li-hey Lights,” Chris took another hit. “I-I-I have a per-per-per…..performance and I-I-I,” Chris turned his head and closed his eyes. “I’m hungry.”

“Yessssss.”

“I have no money.” I pouted.

“Awah!” I crossed my arms.

“I have more weed.” The pout easily became a smile.

---

Once the high went away (actually, it never went away, I just realized I had a shift), I was walking to the merch tent for another day of working with the devil’s spouses. I couldn’t really keep eye contact. My eyes liked to stay focused straight ahead. Once I was seated at the table, my hands fell into my lap as I stared at the countless fan walking around. I grabbed a pair of shades and slapped them over my eyes, of course after poking my eye once or twice or three times.

I took a look back at the Attila tour bus. I would be spending more of my time there more often now.

Notes