The
weeks soon blurred together. I'm not sure when filming ended, and my
use of the pills seemed to increase. Hartson always seemed to know
just when I needed a pick-me-up. At first it was once a day, slowly
increasing to two, three, four times a day, until I just couldn't
function without them anymore. Of course, it didn't help that my
supply was unlimited. Being in this business meant you could always
get your hands on whatever you desired. When you desired. No
questions asked.
I
stopped visiting family and friends after they started commenting
that I had lost weight, and seemed withdrawn, and always on edge. I
wasn't myself. Everyone noticed it, even I knew it, deep down., in
that part where you buried everything you couldn't, didn't want to
face, There were only so many times that I could fool them with
“Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. All those long hours filming must be
finally catching up with me.”
Of
course I knew that I was addicted, I just didn't know how to stop. I
was pushing away those closest to me, for no reason but my own
selfishness. I couldn't stop, not that I had tried.
I
didn't want to face the disappointment on everyone's faces when they
found out what I was. Especially Mum and Dad. How could I tell them
that their only Son was an addict? How could I let them down like
this? I could just see Mum now, sitting on the sofa with her head in
her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks while Dad shouted and
yelled at me for being stupid and throwing away everything I had
worked so hard to achieve. I just couldn't do it.
I
holed myself up in my apartment for the next few months, my addiction
spiralling out of control. I tried anything, and everything, but
nothing gave me the same “buzz”. I barely recognised the person
that stared back every time I looked in the mirror now, what with his
dark eye-bags, hollow cheeks and rough facial hair. He had become a
total stranger.
I
hardly ate or drank anything, my clothes were literally hanging off
my emaciated frame. I didn't want to eat, I mean, what was left? My
family would hate me if they knew what I had become, I would be
better off dead.
A
few days ago while taking one of my few baths, there was loud knock
on the front door. I quickly jumped out, not bothering to dry myself,
and pulled on my jogging bottoms and an old, torn, ragged t-shirt
over my head and went to answer it. Standing there with a worried
expression on her face was... Mum. Uh oh!
“Oh,
Jasper.” She exclaimed as she broke down in tears at the sight
before her. “I've been so worried. You haven't been answering the
phone or returning my messages. I thought something awful had
happened to you.”
I
could only watch helplessly as the tears poured down her face.
“Come
on, Mum. Look at me, I'm fine. No need for you to worry about me at
all.”
“No
need to worry!? How can you say that!? Just look at you!” From the
hurt in her eyes I could tell that she knew I was hiding something.
I
licked my lips, tasting the saltiness of my tears. I hadn't noticed,
until now, that I was crying too.
“I'm
so sorry Mum... I don't know how to stop.”
She
took my face in her hands and gently turned my head to look at her,
“Stop what, baby?”
“I've
tried. Believe me, I have!”
“Jasper,
what's happened? Tell me. Please.”
“The
drugs, Mum. I can't even get out of bed without taking something. I
want to stop, but I just can't. I don't know how. ”
As
the realisation of my words hit her, I felt more ashamed and broken
than I thought I ever could feel. She had been through so much. And
she did it all for me. How could I repay her like this?!
“I'm
sorry, Mum. So sorry!” I was hysterical, tears were streaming down
my face, I couldn’t, didn't want them to stop.
***Six
months later***
Looking
back, I knew that was the moment I realised just how badly I needed
help. I couldn't stand that disappointing and heartbroken look on
Mum's face. That night was the night I promised her I'd go to the
best rehab centre I could find, and get better.
I
checked myself into the Clinique les Franciscaines six months ago
today, the view of the Eiffel Tower was fantastic. I would often sit
here at night, when I couldn’t sleep, just staring at it. I still
had the odd craving for the drugs, but I was slowly starting to feel
more and more like the Jasper I, and everyone else knew.
I
had started working out, to build my muscles back up, and was slowly
starting to gain all the weight I had lost. It was taking time, but
with the fantastic therapists and friends I had met here, I was
slowly getting back to the person I knew I wanted to be.
I
had finally got to the point in the rehabilitation programme where I
was now allowed to venture outside of the buildings grounds alone. I
now went for a morning stroll everyday and always found myself
outside the local book store in the town's centre. It was a quiet store, with very few visitors.
I
would normally just sit on the bench opposite for a while, and just
watch the locals go about their day. But today, I decided would be a
good day to change my routine a little, and ventured inside.
There
was a light jingle as the door opened, alerting the owner of my
presence. A dainty, dark-haired lady turned in my direction, “Hello
dear, welcome to The Circle Of Knowledge book store. Please take a
look around and don't hesitate to ask if there is anything you need
help with.”
The
inside was small and quaint, decorated in beautiful, dark wood. There
was shelf upon shelf, each as full as the other with books, and a
comfy looking reading nook by the window. I gazed upon the first
bookcase, there was every genre of book you could imagine, in both
English and French. I only knew a few basic words in French, so I
picked up an English copy of “The Curator's Lost Museum” and went
to sit in the armchair closest to the window.
I
had only read a few pages when I heard small footsteps and a gentle
voice say,
“Grand-mère avez-vous vu... Oh excusez-moi Monsieur.”
I
looked up to respond, and my breath caught in my throat...
I just want to thank you guys for sticking by me, and being extremely patient. I've had the update partially written for months now, but with looking after little Noah, it's been hard to find the time to get it finished. I don't know yet how often updates will be, but both me and The Stone's are back, and here to stay. :)
5 comments:
Alright, now I have to go back and read this from the beginning, hehe. Nothing like starting out with a spoiler huh?
Nice cliffhanger grrrr. :)
Welcome back!
Great job with the pics of Jasper the addict, he gave me such a fright, and his appearance fit what was going on with him perfectly and I'm so thrilled he eventually got help. I need to know who that is, to make his breath catch in his throat like that!
Just wanted to say that It nice to see you back. Plus I feel really bad for Jasper being addicted to drugs. It is finally nice to see him getting better. Now I just wondering who he is seeing and why he is out of breath. Hehehe! Welcome BACK!
Great to see you back! I love your storytelling!
I hope you'll find time to update eventually! I came to your blog just today, but I've enjoyed reading over it! I just started my own legacy, and have been looking for inspiration. :)
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