He was nowhere to be found. She sighed with relief inwardly. She'd done the line on the plane just in case he was here. It would help cushion the fall she knew would occur if she were to see him. Now that he wasn't here, it was just a nice ride.
"Ash?"
She snapped to attention. "Uh, yea?"
"Come on, hun." Her mom draped an arm around Ashley's shoulder. "You must have crazy jetlag."
"Yea, jetlag."
When the caravan arrived at the Kerwin house, Ashley found that her family expected her to stay and tell them everything about London. She knew that if she tried telling stories, they'd jumble into something resembling the bad trip she had last week. Her head ached just thinking about it. She complained of a stomach ache and left them to their niceties.
She quietly closed the door in her room, making sure it was bolted. She tossed her bag onto her beg, rifling through her purse. Triumphantly, she pulled a small, clear baggy from its confines. The soft, white powder looked more inviting than ever.
She grinned wickedly and pulled out her notebook. She sat the notebook on her crossed legs and poured a small heap onto its hard surface. She used her driver's license to form the perfect little line. She giggled, rolling the photo of her Craig, just as she had done in London at least three times a day.
She inhaled sharply through her nose, the small particles shooting up into her sinuses. It tickled. She giggled again, but kept snorting it. She didn't want to lose the hit. As she finished the line, she felt a warm sensation flow over her.
She fell back onto her bed, hugging the teddy bear that Jimmy had given her in the eighth grade tightly to her chest. Her smile broadened as she felt the warm flow cease and an icy shiver run through her.
She laughed as her ceiling began to mold into the shape of a panda. The panda began to wave madly at her, and she waved right back. She didn't realize that she was still laughing hysterically.
A knock pulled her from her drug induced reverie.
"Ash? What are you doing?" Toby's voice permeated her door, and she felt as if it were crawling into her brain.
"Nothing, Tobes." She smiled at the lie, tracing her name into the air.
She swore she could see the neon colors with which she had written her name. They flickered and evaporated and she nearly cried out at the loss of them.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Him, again.
"Yea, I'm great." She giggled again.
She heard his footsteps retreating from her door. She thought that maybe, when he was ready, she'd introduce him to this. A new way to see the world. It would make him a better person, loosen him up a little. She nodded resolutely, determined to show him the brighter side of life once she could stand up. She felt her lead-heavy limbs sliding away from her.
She began to cry, as her dismembered limbs began to shake. At first, she cried softly, then, after they had reattached themselves, she cried for the sake of crying. She yearned for London; she knew exactly where to go to get good stuff to restock on. At home, she felt herself slipping away. How would she replenish her diminishing supply?
She pulled herself upright and prepared another line. She knew the rise was the best part, and coming down hurt more than anything she had felt before. She sniffed as hard as she could, intent on getting every last grain.
The makeshift straw dropped from her hand, unfurling itself. She saw the faces, but they were foreign. Somewhere, she realized she was in the picture, but the only thing that stood out was him. She couldn't remember his name. She smiled. He was cute. He was familiar, but the familiarity brought with it a sour taste.
She felt her stomach turning. She hadn't expected this trip to end badly. She hurried out of her room and across the hall, into the bathroom. She hugged the porcelain toil as she vomitted. Heave after heave, it seemed to never end. She found herself dizzy from the exertion. Her vision blurred and narrowed.
She heaved the remaining contents of her stomach into the bowl, the sickening splash only making her gag. She gasped for breath, spitting the excess saliva form her mouth. She wiped her mouth, the mixture of vomit and saliva leaving a trail on her sleeve.
She stood and stared at herself in the mirror. She was thin, painfully so. Her collar bones jutted from beneath her skin, creating pools of shadow. Her skin was sallow, stretched across her bones. She laughed.
"Terri would just die." She laughed again.
She realized that in her rush to the bathroom, she had spilled her baggy. She nearly screamed in frustration as she tried to sweep the grains in the bag. Sighing, she decided it would be easier if she just used it off the carpet.
She snatched the picture from her bed, not even glancing at the faces on the opposite side. She rolled it and sniffed up the little piles, one by one, until the only remainders were few and far between.
She smiled lazily, falling back on her carpet. She waved her arms and legs, giggling.
"Carpet angels!" She shouted, laughing even harder.
"Ash, what are you doing?" It was Toby.
"Carpet angels, Tobes!" She squealed with delight, her limbs swinging faster -- in her mind, they had disconnected themselves from her and were swaying of their own accord.
She heard him sigh in confusion, turning and leaving her to her fun. She shut the door, bolting it.
"He just doesn't understand the meaning of cool." She whispered to herself, before giggling uncontrollably.
She propped herself back on her elbows, glancing around the room. Her baggy lay near her foot, a mere handful remaining. She groaned at the sight of it, before standing up and digging through her bag for her second bag.
She joyfully pulled a baggy of halved pills from the confines of a bra cup. She dug once more, producing a nearly full baggy of powder.
"Hello, darling."
She emptied the nearly empty bag of powder into the other, tossing the empty baggy into the waste basket. She sealed the bulging bag, setting it alongside the pills in her suitcase.
She felt her high reach its peak as the pills began to separate and squirm. She saw herself lying on her bed as she lay on the ceiling. She felt the ceiling give way and she was rising higher and higher, until she could see her house.
She felt someone floating next to her, but their face was blurred.
"Will you marry me?"
As he spoke, his face became clear, his name, his birthday, his phone number. Everything she had ever known about him swam into her mind and she was abruptly dropped back onto the bed, her limbs aching from the long flight on the roof.
She picked up the phone, trying to punch in the numbers. Her fingers were too thick, she was dialing the wrong number. She hung it up, then tried again. It rang twice before someone picked up.
"Craig!" She nearly screamed the name, as she stood up on her bed.
"...yea, who's this?" It was his voice, she knew it.
"It's Ashley. How did you get home so fast?" Her words sped together, crashing into one another.
"What?"
She felt something wriggling near her ear. She pulled the phone away and screamed. Thousands of thin worms were wiggling out of the receiver, squirming their way to freedom. She grabbed it and began to bang it against her bedpost, trying to squash the worms before they crawled into her ear.
"Die, die, die!" She brought the receiver down again and again, before she was satisfied that the worms were dead; she began to laugh.
Her doorknob turned quickly.
"Ashley? Honey?" Her mother's worried voice seemed distant and crackled. "Are you okay?"
She felt her stomach turning once more. She leapt off her bed towards the door, but found her legs weren't obeying her commands. She fell, her head smacking soundly against the carpet. Her throat clenched as she heaved a clear, syrup-y substance onto herself and the floor.
Her stomach had no more to give. She vomitted until she was left to dry heaving. Her chest tightened as she forced herself to breathe.
"Ashley?" Her mother's voice was panicked. "Honey?"
"I'm fine, Mom." She weakly called out, trying not to move any muscle for fear she would begin puking again.
"Are you sure?"
"Yea, I'm fine."
Her breath was ragged as she lay there, her vomit soaking into her thick purple carpet.
"I'm fine."