I was on my way home from work when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a flash of color emitting from an alley. Dusk was descending and the day had grown dark. I was a few minutes away from my apartment and could have continued on, but I felt a curious pull to the alley. I turned around on my heels and headed back. The alley was now dark—the light had extinguished. Peering across the way, I saw a door on the right wall towards the end. That is where the light must have come from.
Against my better judgment, I walked down the alley, towards the door. Dead rats and copious amounts of trash littered about. It stunk like the sewer. And yet, I arrived at the door and felt a compulsion to open it.
I heard some voices and soft music thumping. A party! No wonder I felt compelled. I knocked. No one answered. I jiggled the doorknob. It gave way—I let out a small gasp. I was thrilled by my uncharacteristic, risky behavior. My heart raced. I had not felt adrenaline like this in years. I liked it.
I turned the knob and pushed open the door—it was heavy. Immediately, my eyes were blinded by a shock of color and light. I stepped back and immediately shut the door. Holy shit. I underestimated the intensity of the light. I needed to wear my sunglasses.
Sunglasses on (they’re Gucci), I reopened the sturdy door with renewed confidence. I felt sexy. Okay, party time. Keep it together.
The light was still stunningly bright, but the shades helped. I stepped inside and shut the door. For the first time, the interior of the building came into my vision. Something I can only describe as an orb was floating in the center of the room, emitting rainbow shocks of light and color. Music was playing—dub techno. Even though my senses were overwhelmed, I felt like I was experiencing sensory deprivation. The music sounded like I was hearing it underwater.
Where were the people? I heard them. It seemed like I was in a house. I walked out of the room and into a hallway. I followed the voices. Stepping into the living room, I was met with a group of 30 or so people. As I quickly scanned the room, I took in the aesthetics. A number of people sported distinct haircuts—mohawks, spikes, dyed buzzcuts. I suddenly felt self-conscious about my braid.
“Hey, did you just walk in?” A tall guy approached me and asked.
“Yes, I just happened upon this. What is that or—”
“Here, let me show you the party favors.”
He walked me over to a table displaying a variety of pills, needles, joints, cigarettes, and alcohol. I had been sober for three years. So had my mom—we decided to commit to sobriety together. I had been smoking weed every day for years and she supported me in quitting. She’s so good.
I stared at him blankly. Thank God I was wearing shades.
“Um—”
“The batch of heroin is really clean. Go for it. My friend Maggie over there will help you shoot it up.”
He glanced down at my arms and smiled.
“Virgin arms,” he said and teasingly stroked them.
Without thinking, I walked over to Maggie. I hadn’t heard that name in a while.
A small group of people were doing heroin. Onlookers parted as I walked over. There, on the floor, gently caressing and coaxing a sexy young guy with abs, was Maggie.
“Mom?!”
“Oh shit, Clara. Oh shit. Hi. Nice sunglasses.”
