Amber Crystals

The cylinders of the bike seemed to thump in time to my thoughts. Sporadic, smooth slaps of oiled ideas adopted a comforting rhythm as the wheels dragged the machine towards the crest of the mountain. The city lights hazed and faded as I rounded the final bend and there, naked, sprawled the car park overlooking Melbourne.

A couple perched awkwardly on the steel guardrail, their bodies entwined. It was only the three of us up here, and the asphalt gleamed empty in the flickering orange glow of the electric lamps.

The couple disengaged when they noticed me staring. The girl remained leaning on the fence, one knee bent, exuding attitude. Her boyfriend, troubled by my presence, began striding my way. I heard resignation in his footsteps, yet his darting eyes betrayed a deep uncertainty.

"Can I help you mate?" he asked, voice oscillating with tension. "I came up here to have some quiet time with my girlfriend."

"She's very beautiful." I offered.

And she was. Smooth black hair reflected the glow of the streetlights, her body a gorgeous curve and eyes so soft they appeared as pools of melted chocolate in her face.

"Look man, I appreciate the compliment, but we're just gonna move on," he said, defensive. "You have a nice night."

I bit down hard on my tongue, tasting my own blood. I often manufactured these types of exchanges, wallowing in them as a dog rolls in piss-stained grass. My breathing quickened, and freezing beads of sweat snaked down my face, pooling at my lip. I could feel my pupils expanding, stretching impossibly in all directions. The effects of the ice were beginning to coalesce at a frenetic peak, collapsing my faculties. The drug wrapped its hot hands around my heart and squeezed hard.

The young man must have realised my instability, because he almost stumbled in his haste to get back to his girlfriend. They all but ran to the walking track obscured by the dark treeline. I stood alone, a tornado of red, howling thoughts whipping through my head.



"Sir?" a woman's voice glided past my ears, waking me gently. "Can you hear me sir?"

My eyelids seemed welded shut, but with a little effort I managed to pry them open just enough. A cruel light assaulted me then, and behind the glare I could see the outline of a face.

"Sir, you were found unconscious. Can you tell me you name?" the same voice inquired.

"My name is Will, are you a doctor?" I managed.

"I'm a nurse at St. Vincent's hospital, where you've found yourself this morning." she explained. "The doctors won't be long with your condition report, but you appear to be in good health, apart from a few scratches."

A few scratches? My body was a tenderised pile of meat, each muscle screaming in anger as I attempted to sit up.

"Just lie still for now, your muscles must be sore." the nurse continued, "You were found this morning at the bottom of a hill in Mt. Dandenong. It seems you had a fall."

"Where is my bike? What happened?" I mumbled as geysers of pain erupted behind my eyes.

"I don't know anything about your bike, but you'll be able to ask to the police about that. They want to speak with you."

Jesus. The cops. I had no memory of last night, at least nothing after I spoke to that guy in the car park. If the police were involved, the evening may not have ended peacefully. I needed a cigarette badly, better still a pipe or two. The nurse left the room, leaving a sterile scent in her wake. Focusing my energy, I pulled hard on the handle suspended above my bed, raising my torso and swinging my legs into the void beside me.

Standing up slowly, my thighs felt weak and useless. My vision fluttered, wave-like, as though room was sitting atop a source of intense heat. I spotted my backpack sitting on a chair in the corner, beneath my torn, grubby clothes. I half-stumbled across the room to check it's contents. A bottle of whisky, two-thirds gone, my phone, sunglasses, my motorcycle gloves and in the very bottom corner, tightly balled, a piece of foil with half a gram of Melbourne's finest meth.

I dressed hurriedly, slinging my bag over my aching shoulder before gently opening the door. Peering both ways down the pale white corridor, I could see no sign of the authorities, and with a final check of the room I made my escape, down the fire stairs and into the hot, unforgiving Australian sunshine.