If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-12-23 19:18:00 |
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Current music: | with you - linkin park |
Entry tags: | marijuana |
even though you’re so close to me/you’re still so distant/and I can’t bring you back
Who: Marijuana. Although, if you want to get technical, everyone on this list is there as well. In a way.
What: Marijuana takes a nap with those he's loved and lost.
Where: Highway sub-basement under the stairs.
When: Spanning from late Monday evening to mid-evening on Wednesday.
Warnings: Imagery that Marijuana says is 'sweet'. I say it's gross and disturbing. Take your pick!
Heroin left when Marijuana started to yawn and needed to brace himself against the counter in order to stay awake. He hadn't slept since... in twenty four hours, he'd been holding vigil above Dave's body and he knew he needed to nap. Too much was pressing down on him. Dave, his Dave, gone and because of him. Heroin, his Heroin, hurting becase of him. Matt, so close to breaking down. Wes, filled with too much anger and Cam, poor Cam, thrust suddenly into a position of responsibility that Marijuana wasn't sure he could handle. Quietly, he promised Heroin in a dull voice that he would contact her when he was awake again and took a tentative step forward. The kiss he brushed over her cheek barely made contact with her cold skin before he was stumbling away to the basement door, locking it firmly behind him.
The walk down the stairs was fast. He needed to get back to his Dave. As he hurried, memories flashed through his mind. Finding the then-boy in that snowy ditch, wrapping his arms around him and bringing him home to nurse him back to health. The shakes he had done his best to calm as Dave went through withdrawal. The tremor in the boy's voice when he had told Marijuana his name. Everything, everything from that first week that Marijuana'd had Dave in his bed to nine years later, it churned through his mind until, with a sobbing gasp, Marijuana fell down into the dirt, hand bracing on the carved stone marker that was all he had left of his seconds. The Organic, sensing that its plant simply needed to rest with those he'd loved and lost over the years, opened up for him.
Marijuana sank into the dirt until his head rested against Dave's chest. The earth closed up above him as Marijuana reached for a cold wrist to draw a heavy arm over his form, draping himself with the body of his beloved.
He closed his eyes, one hand searching through the dirt, down, down, down. The Organic, always knowing what its plant needed, churned the dirt slightly to give Marijuana what he wanted. Marijuana's fingers closed around bone, the flesh of Jake's fingers long decayed but it didn't matter. Holding the hand of the second that had come before Dave and with Dave wrapped around him, Marijuana finally felt like he could rest.
There were others, overdoses, those who had died on drug runs, those who had betrayed Marijuana to the police and suffered for it at the hands of their master. Marijuana turned in the dirt and Dave ended up on top of him like a cold, absent blanket. He let go of Jake's hand only to search through the dirt and there, Jane's barely-there cheek bone under loving fingers, as loving as the fingers that had strangled her when she had gone to the cops about Marijuana's operation. Marijuana turned again, his back up against Dave's chest.
He still felt unsettled.
The Organic, though, in hopes of placating its plant, dug deep within its own recesses.
Bits and pieces of broken lives were pushed up to surround Marijuana. There was Dyl's - scrawny, quiet, treacherous little Dyl - bone toes brushing up against Marijuana's calf. Phil's - bulky, rat-eyed Phil - hip bone bumped against his own. Marijuana's fingers curled around Jane's - dirt-haired, anxious Jane - cheek bone as Jon's - dark-eyed, dark-souled Jon - rib cage pushed against his chest and the top of Seb's - lithe, blonde Seb, gunned down at the age of eighteen - skull knocked against Marijuana's cheek. Joe and Mitch, the two who the decades had all but eaten away, were barely present but the smallest scraps immersed in Marijuana's hair.
One.
The word, shuddering through the earth that had absorbed nutrients from the bodies of Marijuana's seconds and was already slowly nibbling at Dave, echoed through Marijuana's mind, feeling almost like a gentle caress. Marijuana, one with his prior loves, all of them, let out a gentle, comforted sigh. Cocooned by those who had dedicated their lives and deaths to his service, he breathed in the dirt that had a bit of each second running through it, closed his eyes and slept for days.