Edge of Darkness Box Set

by Margaret McHeyzer

Breathing a few deep sighs, I finally look up.

  In the front row, I can see two girls sitting next to each other. Both have been crying. Both are wiping at their faces with tissues. There’s always someone who responds the same way when I read passages from my book. I get it. It’s raw and confrontational. You’d have to be made of stone to feel nothing after reading Addiction.

  A student’s hand flies up from the center of the auditorium.

  This is the most painful part. Sometimes I get asked questions that I don’t want to answer, but I have to because I made the commitment to educate teenagers on the risks and dangers of addiction.

  “Yes,” I say and point to the girl whose hand is raised.

  She stands and straightens her shirt. “How hard was it for you to write Addiction? I mean, there’s some deeply personal things in here.” She holds up my book, showing me the cover of the girl walking down a lonely road. What an apt cover, because that’s exactly what my addiction did to me. It isolated me from everyone who loved me.

  “Writing Addiction was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I thought when I went through rehab, that nothing could be harder than that. But once I started writing, I found I had to be real and tell the truth. No matter how much it hurt me, I needed to write everything down. It serves as a constant reminder of how easy it is to fall prey to and become a victim of something you were never looking for.”

  She sits down with a satisfied smile that I’ve answered her question.

  Another student from the high school where I’ve been asked to speak stands. It’s a male student, which I find interesting because usually the males don’t ask a lot of questions. The males usually sit and listen. “Was there anything you left out of the book that you wish you could’ve added?” he asks before sitting and waiting for my answer.

  A sick feeling twists in my stomach. I hate being asked this. It doesn’t happen often, but when it is asked, I tell the truth. They need to see how bad this can be. And I was a lucky one, because I made it out of that world alive. “I did something I’m extremely ashamed of doing,” I say as my voice cracks and another tear falls.

  “Worse than stealing your grandmother’s jewelry?” the same boy asks.

  Turning to my Dad, I see the tears glistening his cheeks. He knows what I have to say, and I’m not proud of it at all. “I wrote it, but decided to take it out. I’m still so ashamed of it.” I wipe my hands over my eyes, trying to hold onto whatever dignity I have left. But I know I do have dignity, worth, and self-respect. Because I fought tooth and nail to get myself out of the heavy addiction I once was victim to. “At my lowest, I went back home and tried to steal whatever I could carry. I thought my parents would be at work, but Dad was home.” I swallow back the tears and shame I have in myself. These kids need to hear it, they need to understand what lengths a drug addict will go to. “I was in a bad state, coming down off a high, needing money for drugs.” I shake my head, ashamed by my low. “I asked my Dad for money, told him I needed to eat. He said no.” I look at Dad, almost seeking his permission. He nods his head. Mom is crying, Dad is crying, and I’m in tears.

  “What happened?” the boy asks.

  “All I could think about was where I was going to get the money for my next hit. It’s all I wanted. I yearned for it. It burned through my veins. It was pounding through me, like a tsunami of desperation.” I take another deep breath. “Dad and I were arguing. I wanted crystal meth. I craved it, more than a drowning man at sea would crave air for his lungs. More than a mother would crave the touch of her newborn baby. I needed it, like nothing I’ve ever felt or known. I had to have it.”

  “And what happened?” he asks again, pushing.

  “I asked my Dad for money again. He told me no. I begged him, promised I’d pay it back. He said no.”

  “Is that the worst of it?” another boy asks whose sitting in the front row.

  Shaking my head, I grimace at the remembered, painful memory. “I told my father I’d have sex with him if he’d give me fifty dollars.” Everyone gasps. I look up, and see so many mouths are gaping in horror. “My Mother walked in when I made my offer. He backed away from me and told me I needed help, and my Mother grabbed me and dragged me outside. In a fit of anger, I hit her a few times. She fell back and hit her head. My violence sent her to the hospital for stitches.” I hear more gasps. “That was the day I tried to kill my junkie roommate. And that was the day I was raped by four men who then tried to overdose and kill me so I wouldn’t identify them for raping me. They’ve never been caught,” I add in a small voice.

  “Oh my God,” I hear someone whisper.

  The hall is quiet, but it doesn’t take long for another hand to fly up. I point to the girl in the back. She stands and says in a loud, confident voice, “What happened to Mr. X?” I changed the names in my book for legal reasons. Mr. X is Edgar.

  “Wow, I knew this question was coming.” I half chuckle, knowing my answer will horrify these teenagers. But I’ve vowed to keep it real. I refuse to lie. “I wasn’t able to mention anything about Mr. X in the book, but now I can. Mr. X is serving five life sentences in prison.”

  “Because of the drug dealing?” the same girl asks.

  “Strangely enough, no. The drugs weren’t the reason for his prison sentence. He decided movies would be his thing. And went from the pornographic material he was filming with me to what’s called ‘snuff films.’”

  “What’s a ‘snuff film’?” this girl is really curious.

  “Snuff films are real-life torture and murder that occurs on film, and they sell it to the highest bidder.”

  “Oh, my God,” she says with a gasp.

  “He killed two girls.” Ginger, whose name I changed to Jade, and Sky who I called Cat in the book. “He killed them by slashing their throats on camera. The blood sprayed all over his face. What he didn’t know was that one of the girls he murdered had AIDS. Some of the sprayed blood got into his eye, and mixed with his blood. Mr. X will die in prison, because he didn’t know he had HIV and didn’t get treated for it. It developed into AIDS.”

  “Yes!” I hear a lot of people collectively mumble and scattered applause erupts.

  “I don’t wish death upon anyone,” I say, although, Edgar deserves whatever fate wants to hand him. I take a moment and hold my hand up, where I’m wearing my grandmother’s ring. “The one good thing that happened was when the police raided his home, they seized all his property. My parents filed a police report for this, of which he’d kept, and I got it back.”

  “You never said what happened to Hunter in the book,” another eager male asks. Hunter being Zac.

  “I see him around from time to time. He told me how sorry he was for not standing up to Mr. X. As it turns out, Hunter was terrified of Mr. X. I can see why, and I don’t hold any bad feelings toward him.” A long silence falls over the students.

  “How do you feel about Mr. X now?” a different student asks.

  I smile. “I used to think I loved him. That he was what I wanted and needed. But the reality is I just wanted what he got me hooked on. I thought there was a pull toward him, but that’s what predators do. He created a wedge between my parents, my friends and me. He even went so far as to falsify those documents he gave me. He conditioned me. Made me need him, made me think he took care of me. He took me on our first ‘date,’ and I use that term loosely, because after he was arrested his method of operation came out. The restaurant meeting wasn’t a date, but an audition. The men who were having dinner there offered Mr. X money for pornographic movies with me in them. He knew what he was doing, from the moment he met me. Everything was a lie. He was a seasoned predator. How do I feel about him?” I shrug my shoulders. “He’s getting what he deserves.”

  Another hand flies up to ask a question. “You seem to be so…” They pause thinking about the word they want to use before adding, “… normal. How are you finding life now?”

  “It’s a struggle. Every day I think about my old life. But I�
��m lucky, because Addiction is now going to be made into a major motion picture. I know this book and the movie will be able to reach so many people at the same time. I love traveling from school to school to talk about my experiences. Because one of you, or a few of you will at some point be offered drugs. And when you are, think about what I went through. Think about the pornographic movies of me that are out there on the Internet, and will probably be out there for eternity and ask yourself if that’s the road you want to travel.” I see a lot of them nodding their heads. “They say the truth will set you free.” I take a deep breath and try to look at as many faces as I can. “My truth is this… ” I pause for a further second, looking at more eager faces staring up at me.

  The students are watching me, waiting to hear what I’m going to say. Their eager faces are glued to me.

  Relief floods me. The words I’m about to say were something I once completely refused to acknowledge. I wasn’t an addict, a junkie. I wasn’t like them. I wasn’t dirty, and I wasn’t a hooker. But my reality is here in print for everyone to see. I was. My strength increases every time I say the sentence aloud.

  I turn to my parents and see the pride in their eyes. I’m proud of myself too. I survived.

  “My name is Hannah Rose Mendes, and I’m a drug addict.”

  The End

  Phone numbers:

  Drug Abuse Hotline US: 1877 978 1523/1877 659 9350

  Life line Australia: 13 11 44

  SupportLine Telephone Helpline UK: 01708 765200

  Action on Addiction UK: 0300 330 0659

  Prologue

  Trust is something that has to be earned. It’s not freely given.

  There are some people in our lives we automatically trust. We believe everything our parents say and do. We know their actions and instincts are always to protect and teach us.

  We learn to trust those with whom we develop a bond of friendship.

  Strangers don’t have our trust. We’re wary of them; we keep them at arm’s length until they prove themselves to us.

  Trust, once earned, can also be ripped away. That can happen over a period of time or in an instant.

  Tonight I’ll discover how cruel the world can be when trust is brutally torn away…

  Chapter 1

  Standing in front of the full length mirror, I look myself over. My emerald green gown sweeps the floor while my long, dark brown hair is twisted back into a simple, yet elegant chignon.

  “You look beautiful, darling,” Mom murmurs, leaning against the door frame.

  Looking to her, I see tears glimmering in her eyes. “Mom,” I say walking toward her.

  Her arms open and she folds me into a warm ‘mom’ hug. “Oh look at me! I’m being so silly, Dakota. It feels like it was only yesterday I was watching you crawl around the house in diapers and today, you’re the most beautiful sixteen-year-old young lady my eyes have ever seen.”

  Smiling broadly at her, I can’t stem the wetness beginning to well up in my own eyes. “Mom,” I whisper as I blink crazily, trying to hold back the tears.

  Mom steps back and holds me at arm’s length. “Let me look at my gorgeous daughter all ready for her junior prom.” She looks me over as I do a small spin for her, showing off my dress and my hairstyle. “Oh darling,” she whispers while shaking her head. “I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

  “You have to say that; you’re my mom.”

  “No, I don’t.” She’s shakes her head. “I’m so blessed to have you as my daughter.” Suddenly the few tears Mom’s let escape have escalated to more and before I know it, her whole face is drenched in salt water. I move to hug her again, but Mom pushes me away. “Don’t, I’ll ruin your dress,” she says wiping her tears from her face. “I’m just being a silly old lady.”

  “You’re not silly, and it doesn’t matter about my dress.” I hug Mom, and she holds me close to her body.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. It means so much to me to be able to hug you today.” Mom’s body relaxes and she takes a deep breath. “You have to finish getting ready before Levi arrives to take you to prom.”

  “I need to touch up my makeup and I’ll be out.”

  “Okay, I’ll go get the camera ready. Dad said he wants heaps of photos, because he won’t be home from work in time to see you leave.”

  “It’s okay, I understand,” I tell her. Truthfully, I’m a little hurt Dad can’t be here, but I know he wants to be and he can’t get any time off from work because he’s taking two weeks’ vacation over the summer break so we can go to Canada to visit Mom’s sister and our cousins.

  “You look so beautiful.” Mom lovingly smiles at me before turning to leave my room.

  I sit back down in front of my dressing table, and carefully touch up my hair and make-up. When I’m finally ready, I pick up my small clutch and head out to wait for Levi.

  My heels make a clicking sound as I make my way down the hall and into the family room where Mom is already waiting with the camera. My younger sister, Sam, is standing beside her, eagerly watching me walk toward them.

  “Dakota,” she gasps as her eyes follow my dress up and down. “You look so . . . wow!”

  Sam has recently turned fourteen and I know she idolizes me. It’s obvious in the way she tries to style her hair like mine and copies what I wear. It used to bother me when I was younger, but it doesn’t anymore because I know she loves me and wants to be exactly like her big sister.

  I’m considered to be one of the ‘popular’ girls at school. I’m on the cheerleading squad, have great grades, and I’m dating Levi Matthews, who’s on the basketball team. We’re the couple everyone wants to be.

  “Let me take some photos out back by the pool,” Mom says.

  “You look so pretty, Dakota,” Sammy says again. “I can’t wait for my prom, but you have to promise you’ll help me look like a princess, too.”

  “Of course I will. Come on, let’s go,” I call to Sam, who’s sitting on the sofa watching me and Mom.

  “You want me to come too?” Her eyes light up as if I’ve given her the best news of her life.

  “Well, you are my little sister, and I can’t exactly be in these photos all by myself.”

  Sam’s face brightens with joy at being included. She leaps off the sofa and runs straight at me, just stopping before she falls into my arms. “I don’t want to ruin your dress so I’ll just stand beside you,” she says, excitedly bouncing on the spot.

  When we get out to the pool, Mom has already positioned herself, ready to take a million or so pictures. “Stand over here, Dakota.”

  Sam follows me as I walk to where Mom’s pointing, already snapping pictures. Before long, I have Sam in the photos with me, and Mom continues with the broadest, proudest smile she can muster. “I think I’ve got about three hundred,” Mom says. “I’m certain Dad will love them. Come on, let’s go inside and wait for Levi.”

  “Are you nervous about tonight?” Sam quietly asks me.

  I’d confided in her that maybe Levi and I would finally go all the way tonight. He’s booked a hotel room, and without Mom and Dad knowing we’re planning to leave the prom early to go there. But I’ve been having second thoughts, and I just don’t think I’m ready for it. “I don’t know if I can,” I whisper to Sam as we keep an eye on Mom to make sure she’s not listening.

  “If you’re not sure, then don’t do it. You don’t want to regret it. Just talk to Levi. He loves you, and if you’re not ready, tell him.” She brings her arm up to drape around my shoulders and pulls me in close for a hug.

  “Who made you so responsible? You’re supposed to be fourteen, Sam, not logical and level-headed.” We both giggle, because we know Sam has always been the super smart one, the one who can look at a situation and instantly know what’s right and wrong. She’s been like that for as long as I can remember. As I lean in to kiss her cheek, there’s a knock on the door. “Eeeek,” I squeal happily and Sam jumps up and down, clapping.

  Mom answer
s the door, and Sam leans in to whisper, “Just talk to him, okay?” Nodding my head, I bring her in to give her another tight cuddle.

  “Hello, Mrs. Bennett, how are you?” I hear the deep gravel of Levi’s voice.

  “Don’t you look handsome tonight, Levi? And I’m very well. Please come in. Dakota is waiting for you.” She opens the door further and Levi enters looking so hot. He’s wearing a black suit with a green tie that perfectly matches the color of my dress. His dark hair is nicely styled back, and his suit really emphasizes his broad shoulders. I’m so lucky to have him.

  “Oh my God,” Levi breathes when his gaze falls on me. Hungrily, he looks me up and down, and I see him gulp while his eyes appear glued to me. “You look . . .” He shakes his head and shoves a hand in his pocket. Seemingly speechless, he leans in close and under the guise of kissing my cheek, he whispers, “You look good enough to eat.” My heart beats quicker and my cheeks burn with an obvious flush. Pulling back, he smiles at me and hands me a corsage. “I can’t talk, I’m blown away by how gorgeous you are.”

  “Thank you,” I say while looking down at the vibrant pink rose. “Will you pin it on me?” Taking it out of the clear plastic container, I hand it to Levi to pin on my dress.

  “You two look so cute together,” Mom gushes and I hear the camera clicking.

  Both Levi and I turn to look at Mom, who’s busy staring at us from behind her active lens. “Okay, well, we should get going,” Levi announces once the flower is pinned to my dress.

  “Have you got your keys?” Mom asks. I double-check my clutch and nod my head. “If you can’t get home, call me and I’ll come to get you. And no drinking,” she says the last part in her firm ‘mom’ voice, while pointing her finger.

  “I won’t, Mom.” Levi opens the door while I give Sam and Mom another hug.

  We walk out the door hand in hand and head toward the car Levi hired. “Oh wow,” I squeal excitedly. “A limousine!” The long black car waits out on the street in front of my house, and the uniformed driver is standing beside it with the back passenger door open for us. “Oh my goodness,” I murmur as I excitedly clasp my hand to my mouth.