Second Best Fantasy
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The three of them laughed and then everyone got quiet, the heaviness of reality hung in the room.
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“What will I say to her?” Janine said, her voice cracking.
“Go home to her,” Sheila replied. “Open your heart, and the right words will come.”
* * * *
When I got home Janine still wasn’t there. But it didn’t matter. I had made up my mind, and if it’s one thing I could say about myself, it was that I had an unbreakable stubborn streak.
Maybe if I could set a good example, she would follow me into a sober life. And maybe she wouldn’t, I had become willing to risk that for my own well-being.
I had believed she was my soul mate from the very beginning, and I sincerely believed if we did not survive this, there would never be another. There never could be another. Not after Janine. And I was sort of okay with that.
I had not told Janine my doctor’s visit last week was both awful and prophetic. My doctor that I’d had for all the years I’d been with Phantom looked me in the eye and told me in no uncertain terms if I continued to drink my liver would fail me, and sooner than later.
Yet even then sobriety hadn’t really looked like an option.
I’d had no idea what happened to me today between this morning and now, but whatever it was there was no going back and no changing my mind. I started opening cabinets and emptying bottles into the sink, the same way Janine had done when I tried to get sober the first time. But this feeling was entirely different; there was no direct consequence or action that caused overwhelming guilt. This was just me, taking action that went against the grain of my very core.
When the last bottle was empty I went from absolute confidence to deathly afraid in an instant. Something deep within me crawled out from a very, very dark place and took over my mind and body, I don’t know how else to describe it. I think recovery people call it “the disease.” Whatever it was, it began to speak to me, and with each word it uttered, I became more afraid.
It told me my life would be empty without any mood 120
altering substances. It asked me if I really wanted to give up those feelings of invincibility, of euphoria, of calm and peace I could still sometimes achieve with a few drinks. It told me there was absolutely no way Janine would stay, and that I would never recover from that.
“Shut up!” I yelled to an empty room. Never before had I recognized this voice, but clearly it had been there all along, getting louder and louder as I moved towards betraying it.
I had an idea. An idea that would calm the beast and still let me get sober. I was afraid if I drank alcohol I would die on the spot, that my liver would give out right then and there. Besides, I had just poured every last libation down the drain. But what was left in the house was the residue inside the bag on the coffee table. Surely other people had done this, gotten one last good feeling before they entered the stark realm of both physical and emotional withdrawal?
I convinced myself what I was about to do was perfectly fine. I would make tomorrow my “sobriety date” and carry out my mission as planned. Right after this. Besides, I had always been curious. I had always wondered what was so captivating to keep Janine and others like her going back again and again and again. So I took a razor blade and scraped out the inside of the bag. There was enough for just a small bump, which was fine with me. I just wanted to try it, just this once, then clean and sober forever. I had never used a needle in my life and had no idea how to inject drugs. So I pushed the spoon and the needle aside and snorted it.
* * * *
“We’re really glad you came back.”
“Me too.” Janine said. She got a light from the girl who had spoken to her, glad she had decided to come to a meeting before going home to Maggie. She had even talked about it in the meeting, something she had never done before the handful of times she’d been there before. Usually she only went to a meeting when Maggie had, because Maggie had. But today was 121
different. Today she came because she was leaving for treatment in the morning, and for the first time ever, she wanted what these people had. She wanted to quit using, and was willing to do anything to get that.
“If she really loves you, she’ll support you,” the girl said.
“I know.”
Janine got in the car and felt not afraid but excited.
Maggie couldn’t possibly be any happier drinking than she had been using. It would be okay. Hadn’t she herself always believed that love conquers all?
* * * *
I knew I had made a horrible mistake. I felt paralyzed and blood ran down out of my nose and onto my upper lip.
Oh, fuck, was all I could think.
Then, call 911, you’re okay, you’re okay.
As I reached for the phone, I knew it was most certainly not okay. I clutched my chest and fell onto the floor reaching for the phone.
* * * *
Janine stood for a moment in the driveway, gathering her resolve. It had to be this way, no matter what happened, no matter how Maggie reacted. Then she did something she hadn’t done in a very long time, she looked skyward and prayed.
“My God, or Goddess, whoever you are up there, I know you can hear me. I love her more than I have ever loved anyone.
I know I have to get clean, and I have to do it now. I pray you will help me do that, but also that you can keep us together. We are so much better together.”
* * * *
There really is a white light, you know. I saw it, and I heard a voice say, “sudden cardiac arrest.” As I took my last breath, I thought I heard a key turning in the door. All I could 122
think was how much I loved her, and how sorry I was. And then, everything went black.
THE END
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Acknowledgements
My sincere gratitude goes to my publisher, JMS Books.
JMS has been paving the way for new LGBT authors, and has created a publishing experience that is both validating and highly rewarding.
I want to thank Cheri Peterson, Pam Crews, Dawn Nickens, and my family for their limitless and unconditional love and support. I also owe a big thanks for the comic relief often provided by Sara J. Rose.
Even more gratitude must be extended to Suzi Wilson, Linda Zukowski, and Jane Cuvelier, for setting the very finest examples of what it means to be a responsible, productive, adult woman.
Finally, I have to thank the creative talent of the real rock stars in my life, Kayla Brown, Dawna Nelson, and Angie Heaton, you have all contributed to the soundtrack of my life.
ABOUT ANGELA KELLY
Angela Kelly has been writing since she was tall enough to hit the keys on a manual typewriter. Two of her poems, Religion and Redemption, received awards, and her first novel, Unavailable: One Lesbian's Struggle with the Bisexuality of Other Women, was released through JMS Books earlier this year and has been well received and reviewed, both in the LGBT community and mainstream alike.
Kelly lives, breathes, and consumes books. She has been employed in the publishing production industry for over ten years, and has a Bachelor's degree in English from the University of Illinois. She spends much of her time haunting libraries and local bookstores, always in search of the next piece of inspiring and overwhelming literature to add to her reading repertoire.
A native Jersey girl, Angela Kelly currently resides begrudgingly in the cornfields of the Midwest with her partner, Cindy, and their furry four-legged children. She hopes to someday retire near the oceans of the east coast of Florida, where she plans to write her memoirs with a sharp shell in the sand.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
Founded in 2010, JMS Books LLC is owned and operated by author J.M. Snyder. We publish a variety of genres, including gay erotic romance, fantasy, young adult, poetry, and nonfiction.
Short stories and novellas are available as e-books and compiled into single-author print anthologies, while any story over 30k in length is available in both print and e-book formats.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Acknowledgements