Pop Culture Tour

Here is my pop culture tour. Hope you all like it.

Perfect Life

I couldn’t concentrate anymore; that horrible sickening thudding that came from the apartment above; it was constant, loud, making me crazy. I guess I should have expected that. I had been out of meth for almost twenty-four hours. I was starting to go through the early stages of withdrawal, sweating, my heart racing, feeling like I am going to die. That incessant thumping, in reality can’t be more then someone walking around their house, perhaps pacing.

No one will answer their phone. People who I know for a fact they have meth. My love, my sweet, sweet meth; I need it. Besides pacifying the withdrawal symptoms, it comforts me. I have no family left, none that will speak to me. My friends are all junkies. All I have left is my dearest drug. This life is being perpetuated by these facts.

I used to think I was attractive, fair skin, long blonde hair. I was always very popular with the boys. I was a good student, responsible, all that goes along with the “perfect life”. That has all faded away now. My green eyes are sunken in now and dull. My fair skin is pasty, covered in scabs. My beautiful long blonde hair is falling, it is now lack luster and scraggly.  That’s the price I have paid to have my drug, and what I continue to pay.

I keep calling my dealer, and still no answer. “Why ain’t you answering fool?”

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

I’ve called what seems like a million times. The anger is building, the withdrawal is getting worse. There is a knock on my door. I look out the peep hole to see who it is. I never open the door before I know who is on the other side. It could be the police; I do have a warrant out for my arrest. A rush of relief fell over me when I saw it was Jesse. I unlatched the door, and he came in.

“I’m here to save you, but it’ll cost you,” he said smirking. I knew what he meant, and I bowed my head, and lead him to my bedroom, where he would receive payment. 

-Zombiegirl

The Fire

The room was filled with a thick dark smoke now, Brad and David where on their hands and knees trying to stay under the smoke. The battery that had the capability to save both of them lay in David’s pocket, the power source that could turn the cell phone on, and the cell phone felt warm in Brad’s hand. Both where too stubborn to give the other their piece, of the phone; David would rather die than give the man who had an affair with his girlfriend any help. The building started to crumble around them. The door had already been blocked off by a cave in, which had left them trapped. The whole building was filled with smoke now; screams could be heard from the street. David was trapped in the basement of the building with Brad. “I’m going to kill you,” David screamed.

“Dude, just give me the battery, so we can call for help,” Brad pleaded, trying to get David to give him the cell phone battery.

“I will never give you anything, I hate you. I can’t believe you did that!” David’s eyes were almost bulging out of his head.

Brad took off his shirt and covered his nose and mouth so he wouldn’t breathe in too much smoke. “We wouldn’t even have been down here if it wasn’t for that bitch.”

David punched brad in the mouth, almost out of reflex, “I loved her. How could you? We were best friends. Friends don’t sleep with friends girlfriends.”

“I’m sorry, you guys broke up, and she came over, and she was drunk…” Brad sobbed spitting out blood. “I’m sorry but if you don’t give me that battery we ARE going to die.”

“I’m not giving you my battery; give me your cell phone, why should I give you the battery? So you can stab me in the back again?”

“Dude please, give me the battery, I just want to call someone and tell them we are down here. Please man I don’t want to die.”

“This is your fault we are stuck here.”

“No it is that stupid…” Brad didn’t even get to finish his sentence before David started hitting him again.

The ceiling shifted and concrete started to fall. A very large chunk fell strait on to Brad’s legs, pelvis, and lower back, pinning him face down to the floor. The cell phone that had been in his hand was crushed under a second rock that had fallen. David shrieked with terror, Brad was crying and bleeding everywhere. “I’m so sorry man,” he whispered, “It’s my fault…”

Brad never got to finish that sentence, the rest of the ceiling collapsed killing him, and trapping David even further. The room was filling with smoke faster now, David began to choke. His last thought where of Brad, and Daisy, and how he had been so stupid.

-Zombiegirl