​Chapter 4: I’m Feeling It

Laughter.

Loud, ugly, demonic laughter rang in my ears as the three niggas ran off, their voices echoing through the streets like some ghetto hyenas.

"Look at this nigga! Tweakin’ already!"

"Clown-ass fool gone be beggin’ for more by tomorrow!"

"Welcome to the big leagues, circus boy!"

Their footsteps faded, but their voices stayed in my head.

I shoulda been mad.

I shoulda been humiliated.

But I wasn’t feelin’ shit. Not yet.

‘Cause that high had me geeked like fuck.

It hit like a lightning bolt to the brain.

I was floating, no... FLYING. My whole body buzzed, like every nerve had just woken up for the first time. My heart was pounding fast as hell, but it felt good.

Euphoric, dreamy like.

Like every worry, every pain, every fucked-up thing in my life just disappeared.

The streetlights looked brighter. The air tasted sweet. The cracks in the pavement had patterns I’d never noticed before.

Shit, I coulda sat there forever, just soakin’ in the universe.

Time stopped existin’.

I was sittin’ there, cross-legged in the middle of the damn street, laughin’ at nothin’, thinkin’ the world finally made sense.

I could hear my own breath, feel my own blood rushin’ through my veins. It was like my body was bigger than me, like I had stepped outside of myself on some astral shit.

For a second, I felt invincible.

Like maybe this was the thing I’d been missin’ all along.

But the high ain't last long enough, and I came crashin’ back down like a limp dick.

​

I don’t know how long I was sittin’ there. Felt like hours.

But when the high finally let go of me, it felt like gettin’ kicked out of heaven.

First thing I noticed was the pain.

Like my whole body had been through a car wreck. My ribs? On fire. My face? Felt like a baseball bat had danced all over it.

Then I noticed my feet.

Or more like the fact that I ain’t have no shoes.

"Man, what the fuck...?"

I looked around, dazed as hell, realizin’ some dusty-ass junkie had jacked my sneakers while I was zoned out.

Nigga robbed me barefoot.

I was pissed.

But my head was still fuzzy, like my thoughts was tryna wade through syrup.

I pushed myself up, wincin’ as pain shot through my ribs. Stumbleing forward.

The night was quiet now, the streets empty except for the distant hum of cars, drunks and the occasional dog barkin’.

I started walkin’.

​

Every step sent sharp-ass shocks through my body, but I barely felt ‘em. My mind was on two things:

1. Gettin’ back at them niggas.
2. That high.

It was crazy. Even with blood in my mouth, even knowin’ what they did to me, there was a part of me wonderin’ how I could get another hit.

Just to take the edge off.

Just to feel that shit one more time.

I ain’t say it out loud.

Didn’t even wanna admit it to myself.

But deep down, I knew.

This? This was only the beginning.