Christmas Miracles

"Ecstasy." He said. "Take you further than ever with the high."

Sarah was hesitant, and Christopher sided with her once more. Over the year, he had become closer to her, and thought he may even love her. Her bed had become his to share regularly, and sex with Luke was no more to her than it was with her clients, a duty that she had to fulfill. Luke had almost become redundant, as Christopher and Sarah brought in the money. Neither Christopher nor Sarah would throw him out, though; he was too much a part of their lives. Luke knew this, and had bought the new drug in an attempt to feel needed again. Christopher, in his contacts with the local drug trade, new better than to trust it.

"Shit, man!" Luke was obviously hurt. "After all we've been through, you've started abandoning me!"

"I haven't, Luke. It's just..."

"Fuck it, man. You're not gonna join me, I'll take it myself."

"Don't. The X trade here is dodgy."

"Shit. You think you've become so fucking good these days. Dodgy, I'll give you dodgy." Luke threw all three tablets in his mouth, washing them down with a mouthful from the bottle of Jim Beam on the table.

Almost instantaneously, his eyes widened. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Luke's hands came up to his throat and a look of horror filled his eyes. Luke collapsed, and began convulsing on the floor.

"Shit! Sarah get a fucking ambulance!"

Luke died before the sirens could be heard.

"No! Luke! Come back!"

Sarah's hand dropped to his shoulder. "Chris, you've got to go! The cops are going to show up when it's found that he's dead!"

Christopher knew she was right. No tears fell at the death of his friend. Six years on the streets had immunized him to such pain. He stood, and began moving in a daze to where his produce was stashed. Sirens could finally be heard.

"No! Now Chris! Forget that, just go! I'll get rid of it!"

That night was the last time he saw his only friends. One week later, he attempted to return, a cross of police tape covered the door. He learned that Sarah had been taken into custody for questioning over Luke's death, and for possession of the drugs. Christopher's eyes fell closed; she was taking the fall for him.

The man who dealt to him refused to take credit, and Christopher was forced to turn back to muggings, only succeeding to feed his own habit. He was back to where he started, but now had a drug addiction to feed. He resorted to park benches and covered entryways to sleep in.

It had been three months later that he had made the step. He still remembered the address, and Christopher had caught a bus to his old neighbourhood. As he stood outside the front fence, staring at the house, a girl, who must have been about ten years old looked out the front door at him. Soon, a strange man joined her, and after one look at Christopher, threatened to call the police. Christopher ran. It was not his father.

He gave up on ever finding them in that moment.

Now, though, eight months later, with Christmas fever in the air around him, Christopher began to wonder once more about it. His fingers curled around the needle as the heroin boiled on the same spoon Luke had used all those years ago. Christopher filled himself with the temporary relief, and fell into a deep sleep against the Collex.

His thoughts returned the following day. Christopher Laws had sunk to the lowest imaginable point. Why shouldn't he, then, at least make an attempt? Maybe his parents could forgive him; maybe they could accept him back. The worst that could happen would be that he would continue life in the pain he suffered now.

Where could he start though?

Shouldering the small backpack that held his possessions, Christopher felt in his pocket, and found a single five-dollar note. He would have to mug someone again soon. Thankfully he had enough heroin and cigarettes to last him another two days. Christopher walked to the bus mall, uncaring of the wide berth the few people in town gave him; he could not look any worse to them than how he felt inside.

Only two buses ran into Christopher's old neighbourhood on Christmas day. The first was waiting as he entered the bus mall. He was the only passenger and the driver treated him gruffly. Christopher's heart swelled in fear as the bus drew closer. Finally he pressed the 'Next Stop' button, and the bus pulled up outside the house he had grown up in. Christopher did not move.