Laundry facilities in apartments are the best and worst place to live. The worst parts are that there is no bathroom nor a fridge.. The best part of a laundry facility is that its dry and warm, and you’re constantly vigilant about the moment you gotta grab your shit and hide. It’s like a game, get caught and your homeless, don’t and you live another day on a warm concrete floor with blankets and get to smell like cat urine. It was just the two of us, me Epione and Maeve , my cat, living in the laundry facility with me for thirty days.
My ex, Andrew, with whom I was living, decided that he wanted to fuck a junkie with deep, open sores on her body. She would shoot up anything everything into whatever usable vein she had, and afterward just sat on a chair picking and picking at her injection points for hours, apparently totally clueless to the blood and puss oozing from her wounds. Her preferred drugs was shooting speedballs, that’s cocaine and heroin, for those who don’t know. Andrew started shooting up after meeting this junkie, and I chastised him all the time. So, he punished me by driving off with my stuff, the things I paid for, including my car, he refused to tell me where he went and wouldn't answer his phone. The narcissistic evil little shit injected meth and heroin and missed, so all the drugs went into his arm, a la “Requiem for Dream” style, (I saw it after I tracked his dumb ass down). He then went to a casino for three days. While I slept in a laundry facility, with Maeve, and cried at being abandoned by this joker, again.
I fell apart, my hope in humanity, in men, in people doing the right thing, shattered my heart into irreparable minuscule fragments. I lost everything, my home, Maeve, every belonging I owned. I finally called my family, and they saved me from homelessness. Once I arrived, the drugs I had played around with my ex, told me the answer to be my broken self. I acquiesced to the black princess, I called a friend and within the hour he drops off a ball, 3.5 grams,of heroin. After the first hit, things were wonderful. I didn't think about my shitty situation, or Maeve, whom I had raised from birth, I smiled again. My family even told me that they felt the real Epione was back. But, it was said when I was high as fuck. Of course, that encouraged me to get more.
you’re constantly vigilant about the moment you gotta grab your shit and hide