This Tale of Woe

I fear it's already too late. It's a strange feeling for sure, especially this soon in the game. It's like an all consuming rage that's been building up for years, that's finally reached its boiling point and I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm writing this now with the hope that in the event of my demise, this will serve as a record of the trials that led to my complete and utter failure. The outlook, I fear will be disastrous.
It all started about five days ago in Montreal, Quebec Canada. I was getting on the METRO, once again, to go up to the plateau to meet my dealer. It was about a twenty minute walk, with the METRO, I would be there in about two minutes and the way I felt that would be nothing short of a miracle. I felt stranger than usual when I'm sick. I kept having this reoccurring thought in the back of my mind, like I forgot something. I just couldn't shake it. I had some pretty bad dreams the night before and I thought that could have been it, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that wasn't it. It was something a whole lot worse. Eventually, I tried to put it out of my mind, there were more pressing matters that needed my attention.
The METRO pulled up to the Mount Royal stop and I proceeded to enter the platform. Now, the METRO stations are a wonderful place, there is all kinds of things going on, from musicians playing some of the most remarkable music you've ever heard, for spare change, to restaurants, clothing stores and "street vendors" whom sell homemade arts and crafts to the masses at a discount price. There is also one other item, it's not on the menu, per say, but it's definitely there and that's drugs of all kinds. This is the reason that I was there five days ago and that seems to be the reason a lot more people are going there these days in general. I was scheduled to meet Rich at 1 :00 and it was almost that time when I was walking up the stairs to the street. Suddenly that feeling came back, stronger than before and was accompanied by a sense of vertigo and followed by a vision of a woman being beaten to death. I could not see the murderer, nor could I see the face of the woman, but I had a great sense that it was someone that I knew quite well. I grabbed the railing so hard, that the head of a screw drew blood from the palm of my hand. I stood there; pale white, sweating and looking like the walking dead. That was just from the withdrawals, mind you. Imagine what it looked like to everyone when I had the vision. The people around me probably thought they were witnessing my death. Just another junkie, they'd think, serves him right. If I'd have known the events to come, I'd have agreed.
I met Rich and took care of business. Naturally he was a bit disconcerted; I looked like hell and was drawing attention from onlookers all around. Granted, Rich was a drug dealer which was part of his concern, but he was also human being and I looked as if I could keel over at any moment. Rich said. "Man you gotta layoff this crap; it's starting to get the better of you. Pretty soon I'm gonna have to stop selling you this scag or I'm gonna have one less customer." I said. "I know I know. You know what they say crap in one hand wish in the other and watch which one fills up first. You're such a humanitarian, Rich it breaks my heart." "You know what I mean. I'm your friend; I was your friend before all this shit got serious and I'll be your friend when it's all said and done; so try to get it together, alright!" I said I would and went to go get high.
Lately, I had noticed some strange things happening. More often than not they're blackouts, but there are other bizarre things going on too. One of them is a strong sense of déjà vu at almost every turn and a feeling that someone is watching me constantly. Now if I was a drunk, I could understand the blackouts, because alcohol and blackouts go hand in hand, with heroin it's different. You can fallout for a couple of hours and when you wake up your in the same place you were you fell out, so waking up to find myself up to five miles away from where I was seemed a bit unnerving, especially when it was happening all the time now. I had been trying to go about my daily routine and was finding it harder and harder every day to cope. As a matter of fact, I had a blackout shortly after I had gotten high and when I finally awoke I was at the Pie Neuf METRO station all the way across town, arguing with some degenerate. I had no idea what the argument was about, but the man seemed pretty irate and he was definitely upset with me. When he paused for a second to catch his breath I tried to ask him what this was all about, to see if we could settle the matter through more civilized means, but he wouldn't give me a chance. I felt the bile rising in the pit of my stomach as I tried to control my anger, but the man just wouldn't let up. That was it; I decided I'd had enough. I clenched my fist and brought my arm back and delivered a haymaker that would have made Muhammad Ali proud. The man's face contorted with pain. Blood flew out of his mouth, in the company of a few of his teeth and he dropped to the ground. A woman screamed, no doubt because she had thought I had killed the man and people started to gather round to witness the spectacle that had just befallen them; I decided to run.
Let me tell you, it was pretty rough getting out of there. Twice I was damn near accosted by a couple of wanna be hero's who probably wanted to stick me on a spit and roast me like a pig when they caught me. I was smarter than those swine; for one I knew the man was unconscious, not dead; second I would have to be stupid to wait around to find out for sure. Now the third thing was [which was not something I was proud of, but it was something I was known to do from time to time, living the colorful lifestyle I lived, Ha Ha!], I was an expert bike thief; who always carried the tools of the trade in a back sack at all times. I immediately cut through the first alley I came to and proceeded to elude my captors by stealing a bike and riding it through those natural labyrinths that connect the whole city. I figure I rode for about twenty minutes before I felt safe enough to stop. I looked around; made sure no one was still on my trail and went through an alley that brought me onto Rue. St. Denis.
Its was two days before I felt truly safe enough to walk around without looking over my shoulder every two seconds; suffice to say it was an eventful two days. Sara, Rich's girlfriend, had come over the day after my altercation with the man at the METRO station and looked very distraught. I figured she had been crying since all her make-up was smeared; I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Looking at her, although obviously she was distraught and had been crying; I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was, her long sinewy limbs, the curve of her hips and the fullness of her young full, supple breasts; all accentuated by her long strawberry blonde hair and those wonderful full lips, high cheekbones and mysterious gray/green eyes that could entrance the toughest of characters in the most vile of situations. I felt rude; here she was, crying and I was starting to get an erection. I was beside myself. As I started to occupy my thoughts with images of Rosanne Barr, to try and calm myself down, I noticed there was something, it seemed that she was holding in her hand, but I couldn't tell what it was; I figured I'd let it go for the moment as I could see she was about to speak, then almost hysterically she said,. "Oh my God, what am I going to do?" I almost jumped right out of my skin at the shrillness of her voice. It only took me a mere second to get myself together, but that definitely set the tone for most of the rest of the conversation and also took care of what was left of the old one eyed monster. I said "Wait a minute, hold on! Just calm your self down and take a few deep breaths. What exactly did you do Sara?" She said. "I don't know; one minute Rich and I were arguing about some trivial bullshit, the next he's throwing me around like a God damn rag doll. I swear, it probably sounded like WWIII to the neighbors. Anyway, when it was all said and done, Rich left to go to the store to pick up a pack of Demeures and when I knew he was far enough away, I took this." She opened her hand and in the center of her palm was a small key. I thought for a second, what the hell is this woman talking about, is she off her rocker or what? It's just a key. I looked at her for a moment, puzzled and asked her, "What's so special about that?" Without looking up at me she said. "It's to a locker at the Greyhound station on Ontario & Bern. My thoughts were all messed up and I figured I'd pay him back for what he did to me; at the time it seemed like a good idea, but the more I think about it the more I think it's gonna be bad for a lot more people than Rich. That locker has about a quarter of a million dollars in it. In about seventeen hours he's supposed to go there and meet his connection and reload his supply. Rich is supposed to give the key to one of his connects goons; then he goes and gets the money. As soon as the goon opens the locker, he is supposed to text Rich's connect to confirm that the money's there. When his connect gets the text he'll give Rich the dope outside the bus terminal. Without this key, his connect might think he's trying to screw him over and kill him. Even if I give it back, he's liable to kill me just for taking it in the first place, since by the time I could get it back to him he would be late for their meeting; if that happens his connect will leave and become extremely suspicious of Rich for being late and probably put a hit on him thinking Rich set him up."
I contemplated the finality of it all and tried to let it all sink in. I didn't know what to do; if only she would stop looking at me with those captivating and tempting eyes, I might be able to think for a minute. What was she thinking coming to me with a quandary of this magnitude? What did she think I would do? What could I do? I had enough problems of my own, how was I supposed to help her?! There was a hurricane of questions blowing around in my brain that was starting to tear down the power lines. It was mind numbing, I tell you, mind numbing! As I was mulling over this conundrum of massive proportions I looked up at her, those grey/green eyes penetrating my very soul and in that instance I knew what I had to do. I had a plan. I decided to help her, in a way that only a junkie could appreciate. I stood up and told her not to worry; her problems were my problems and I would do anything in my power to keep her safe. She almost started to cry as she came over to me.
The smell of her hair was intoxicating, it was like a field of poppies and wild flowers on a cool summer day; I became completely lost in her embrace. I don’t know if it was her smell or the way she was holding me; even a combination of the two; it quite possibly could have just been the moment. Whatever the case, I just couldn’t help myself. Slowly, I found myself gently placing a soft kiss on her neck just below her ear, and when she didn’t refuse my advance I made my advances more personal kissing her soft full lips. Sara met my kiss with the restrained passion of a woman who’s been left wanting more times than not. The kiss was slow, full and hard; everything I’d hoped it would be. We proceeded to the couch undressing on the way. She was an angel, a vision of beauty, her strawberry blond hair flowing down her over her full, supple breasts. Such a vision of beauty was she, an angel of mercy before me. I proceeded to run my fingers along the insides of her thighs, from her ankles all the way to her sex. Then in one fluid motion I moved back down the face of her legs and up the outside to her hips lightly grazing the side of her wonderfully firm buttocks. As I inched down to her ankles and back to her sex I could feel the anticipation building inside of her. I gently kissed her belly and slowly reached for her breasts as I finally went down on her, experiencing the sweet, sweet nectar which is her, all the while caressing her breasts and teasing her nipples. This went on until she couldn’t take it anymore and begged me to enter her, which I hungrily obliged. We made mad passionate love until we were both spent. As we were lying in each others arms, softly kissing and drifting off to sleep, she looked me in the eye and thanked me. We were soon asleep.
We were only asleep for a couple of hours before the sickness woke me up. It was like a heart attack, waking up sweaty and shaking. It was like nothing had ever happened between Sara and I, the only thought in my mind was getting a fix. I woke Sara and asked her if she had any dope, she did, “Thank God.” So I proceeded to go to the bathroom to go get high. When I came out she looked a little pissed, which I totally understood, but I couldn’t function without dope. Se la vie.
Now, I explained to her, which I didn’t have enough time to do, if it was going to work, however she had to know. I would go to the corner store on Rachel and St. Louis and score enough dope from Rich for three days, which would cover our getaway. I would then talk to a friend about getting some fake ID’s, so that we could get out of the country. I would then head back. While I was doing this, she would go to the bus terminal and grab the $250,000, stop at the Pharmaprix and pick up the supplies we would need for the trip and meet me back at thee apartment.
When I was getting ready to leave the phone rang, it was Rich. He made a little small talk, but there was something beneath, something deadly, evil if you will, trying to get out. I didn't like his tone one bit, it was unnerving, and I knew I would have to deal with the beast very shortly. It was only a matter of time. I quickly motioned for Sara to et going while I had him on the phone. I knew there wasn't a minute to spare. Gods be damned if we didn't pull this off, time was of the essence.
Rich finally got around to asking if I had seen Sara, without skipping a beat I said hadn't and tried steering him to the subject of dope without arousing suspicion. I asked if I could meet him at the comer store on Rachel & St. Louis. He said give him 10 minutes and told me not to be late.
I got there just as he was pulling up. I walked over to his car & jumped in. He looked a bit haggard yet serene at the same time. Later I would find out the reason why, side from the things I already knew, but for now let us leave that stone unturned. I told Rich that I needed a half a bullet, which is 5 grams, in junkie speak and cost about $400 Canadian. This aroused his suspicion enough to ask me where I got the money. I told him the truth, that I cashed a couple of bad checks (coincidentally, this was also one of my finely honed skills that aided me in the colorful lifestyle that I lived) the day before. Total I had cashed $1500 worth of bad checks, which was a nice little score in of it self and would be enough to get Sara and I the hell out of dodge. Rich seemed satisfied with my reply and we concluded our business.
As soon as I left Rich, I went to the nearest payphone and called one of my connections. Let's call him Dave, for safety purposes. I told him what I needed and he said to give him about five hours and he'd have it ready for me. When I asked him how much it was going to cost me, he said he would give me both sets of papers & I.D. at his, personal friend rate ($2500 a piece). We both got a laugh out of that one. I said I see him later & hung up.
I knew I could count on Dave; he had the best ID.’s & papers around. I don't now how he did it (the less you know the better) nor did I care. All I did know was that these papers and ID.’s would stand up at any border & Sara & I would breeze on though. Only the highest scrutiny by someone at the C.I.A. would see it as the sham that; was and I really wasn't worried about Rich calling the law anyway. We were on our way. I just hope Sara got a hold of the money.
I went back to my place to wait for Sara. While I was there I decided to fix up; I figured what the hell you know. I went to the bathroom to fix up and upon entering I saw Sara's lifeless body in the bathtub; mutilated beyond repair, blood everywhere. It took all my strength to choke down a scream. What I beheld was one of the most savage and brutal things a human being could do to another. I had to get myself together; get some medicine in me. I didn't know what I was going to do after but I didn't care. I started getting that feeling and I knew one of my visions was coming on. In this vision I was in hell, not the fire and brimstone the Catholics always talk about, but one where I was doomed to live these events over and over again, knowing only misery and heartache; never finding peace.
When I came to I was on the floor; there was blood allover me from collapsing in a pool of Sara's blood and my head felt like it had a run in with a Mack truck. I didn't give the vision much thought, I had too many other pressing matters to concern myself with. I got myself together and went to the living room and proceeded in doing one hell of a shot. I think I may have done too much.


I fear it's already too late. It's a strange feeling for sure, especially this soon in the game. It's like an all consuming rage that's been building up for years, that's finally reached its boiling point and I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm writing this now with the hope that in the event of my demise, this will serve as a record of the trials that led to my complete and utter failure. The outlook, I fear will be disastrous.


The man in the story, who shall remain nameless, (Sorry for the letdown readers.) was living in a whirlwind. The end of the story might be a little confusing, if you weren't paying attention, but it's the only one that I think fits. The story's end seems to go back to the beginning, in fact it actually does; that's the trick, I think, that makes it fit. How's he writing this all down you may ask, if he died after his last shot. Well if you were paying attention, you would have figured out that he was in one of his blackouts, and in fact did not die right away. He had been plagued with blackouts in the past and also with visions of the future. Alas, he was doomed to relive these events, over and over again, because he did not heed the warnings that the visions held (like a lot of us in real life) and all he had to do to stop the insanity.......was to change his ways!

James Muniak
7/27/05 to
10/6/05
Grafton, Oh