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  My heart swelled with appreciation. Everyone at the hospital was so nice and understanding that it was hard for me to wrap my head around their level of kindness. My life had been a constant battle to do things for myself, so to have the people in my work environment understand and have sympathy… it was almost overwhelming. “Thank you, Dr. Liang. Thank you,” I told her, shaking her hand firmly. She nodded at me and gave me a friendly smile before turning to leave.

  I nearly ran to the locker room, itching to get out of there. At least at home I wouldn’t have to mask my anxiety, which was almost as hard as experiencing the anxiety itself. I changed from my scrubs in record timing, deciding to take the stairs down to the garage, unwilling to wait for the elevator. Sprinting down the steps, I got to the garage floor eventually and hurried through the parking lot. Getting into my car, I pulled out of my parking space and sped to my mother’s house. The drive wasn’t soothing like it normally was. I could feel eyes on me still. Were they following my car? Was I just going crazy? Some part of me genuinely thought I was going crazy, just barely grasping to the concept of sanity. But I just blocked out thoughts like that. I wasn’t crazy, being back in my hometown was making me feel crazy. I told myself over and over that once I was free of that town, things would go back to normal. My past would finally be behind me with no ties left behind.

  By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was nearly crawling out of my skin. When I finally got inside the house, the sensation of someone watching me vanished. It didn’t calm me down much, though, having already wound me into a ball of nerves. They were going to come for me, I just knew they were. Was this it? Was this the day I died? Surely they were going to kill me for still being empty handed. Oh god, poor Lyle… I couldn’t just leave him to die by their hands. But what could I do? Where could I look? I frantically paced around the house, desperate to get some sort of idea for where to search. My father had to have hidden it somewhere, right? He had to have stolen the drugs the night before he OD’d. There was no way he could have sold all of the heroin himself, or have spent all twenty-five grand worth of cash in just a single night. He clearly had stayed in the local area, since he died in the house.

  My eyes fell on a tool box as I walked into the small hallway that led to the den and the bathroom. There was a hammer sitting on top of the metal box. I hadn’t thought about it before, but why was his toolbox inside rather than outside in the shed? And as I thought over it, I realized that the hammer had been on top of the box before I searched through it; having put the hammer back in its spot when I was done looking. Why was the hammer out of the box? A thought dawned on me. What if dad had hidden in it within a wall or floorboard? He would have had plenty of time that night to make a hole in the wall or the floor and fix it up.

  I raced to the hammer, grabbing it and then storming into the den. The den was the room he would most likely hide it in since he was the most comfortable in it and had the most privacy there. Going to the far wall of the room, I kicked over the stacks of junk to expose the wall. Swinging back the hammer, I hit the wall with all my might. The wood paneling splintered. Turning the hammer around to the claw, I hooked it into the hole made in the paneling and pulled it toward me, ripping the wood from the wall. Repeatedly, I smacked the wall with the hammer and then pried the paneling away to search within the walls for the stash. It had to be in here somewhere, it had to be.

  As I frantically demolished the wall of the den, I heard the door open, and I froze. Lyle wasn’t meant to be home for a couple of hours. Within a minute, two figures appeared in the doorway. Vinny and Roger stared me down with intimidating glares. “Put the hammer down if you know what’s good for you,” Roger snarled at me. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Even with the hammer, I knew I couldn’t take the both of them. They were two giant, muscular men. Maybe I could take one of them on, but the other would just get me as soon as I did. So, I dropped the hammer to the ground in defeat. As soon as it collided with the floor, the two men rushed at me. Roger easily snatched me up, holding me in the air with my back to his chest and his arms locked around me firmly.

  “I take it you haven’t found my shit yet,” Vinny laughed cynically as he looked over the damage I had done to the wall.

  I stammered, “P-Please… I-I I’m t-trying—”

  He placed a finger on my lips, “Shh. It’s okay. We’re going to give you more time, don’t worry about that. Who else is going to tear this shit hole to pieces? I sure don’t want to.” Oh, thank God. But then a smug smile stretched across Vinny’s face, “I don’t think my warning was enough, though. So, we’re just here to give you a little… incentive.”

  Incentive? What was a better incentive than threatening to kill my family? What were they going to do to me? Panic raced through my veins as Roger carried me from the den. Taking me down the hall, he slung me down into one of the dining room chairs. Roger then stepped around me, applying his weight on my shoulders so that I couldn’t budge. The ball of one of his hands dug into my burn, making me wince. My eyes went to Vinny as he approached me slowly, finicking with something in his hands. “This is going to be the real motivation, Jason,” he chuckled. My chest was heaving, terrified to find out what was in his hand. When Vinny got to me, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the table with my palm face up. His other hand neared my arm, a syringe in his hand.

  My eyes were wild then. Was that heroin? “No.. no… God, please don’t do this. I will find it, I swear. I swear!” I begged him, fighting to get free of his hold. I did not want to take heroin, I was struggling not to get addicted to pain pills. Heroin would be way too much. I didn’t want to turn into my father.

  “Stop squirming! You want me to mess up?” Vinny questioned me. “After you have a bit of this, I know you’ll find it,” he chuckled. Without any more hesitation, he pressed the needle into my arm and pushed the plunger. My head hung in utter defeat, tears coming to my eyes. What was going to happen to me? Was I going to be a heroin addict now? It was one of the most addictive substances on the planet—just one use could hook people. This had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. They let me go and stepped back. “Might wanna get somewhere comfy. Being a first time user, that dose will put you on your ass,” Vinny called to me with a laugh as he walked through the living room. The door slammed shut, and I once again broke down in tears. I remained in the chair for a few minutes, weeping over my own fate.

  Forcing myself to my feet eventually, I stumbled my way to the stairs—I didn’t want Lyle to find me like this. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I would have honestly rather him cut off a finger or something. The last thing I wanted was to be a drug addict. When I got to the top of the stairs, a sudden wave of euphoria passed through me. The heroin was starting to kick in. Moving to mine and Lyle’s bedroom door, my vision tripled, and my eyelids grew heavy. Then, my vision blacked out and I felt my body hit the floor.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: FALSE MEMORIES

  The Next Morning

  I was sure this was what death felt like. As I woke up, I became aware of just how painful the body pains of heroin withdrawal were. It felt like my body had been ran over by a literal train, and my entire body was covered in a clammy sweat. The most terrifying thought was I knew the pain and discomfort was only going to grow worse as the day went on. Already my body was screaming for more of the drug. I wanted to weep. Finally opening my eyes, I looked down to examine myself. My brow furrowed at the sight of my arm. There was a rubber tourniquet tied around my bicep, and the needle was still in my arm. What the… That wasn’t how Vinny injected me. Pulling the needle from my flesh with a wince, my eyes scanned around to see I was in my mother’s room, slumped against her bed. When had I gotten in there? The last I remembered was passing out in the hallway…

  As my eyes searched the room, they landed on a lunchbox laying in the middle of the floor between the closet and me. Glancing to the open closet, I saw there was a huge hole smashed into the wall inside it. My
eyes widened, crawling over to the lunch box. I gasped aloud at the sight of the contents of the box. There it was, a pressed block of biege powder. The heroin stash. I can’t believe Vinny’s method worked, I found myself thinking. I must have found the stash while I was high and given myself more in the stupor. I hated thinking I had given myself a hardcore drug like that, but at least I could return the drugs to them. Joy overtook my body. Scrambling to my feet with the lunchbox in hand, I ran downstairs and found my backpack, digging my phone and wallet out. Finding Vinny’s card he had given me, I dialed his number and brought the phone to my ear. As I waited for the other side of the line to pick up, I couldn’t help but wonder about my dad’s own drug use. He seriously used this stuff regularly? How could he cope with the withdrawals? They came on so fast and so strong… And my dad was a heavy user, so the withdrawals would have hit him even harder.

  “Who is this?” Vinny questioned as soon as he picked up the phone.

  “It’s Jason Gilmore. I found the stash.”

  “Really?” he said, sounding surprised. “Alright. Meet us in the parking lot of the warehouse on the corner of Franklin and Terrace Street in twenty minutes.”

  The phone disconnected. Nearly jumping for joy, I grabbed my keys from the coffee table and ran out the door. The nightmare was actually coming to a close. I couldn’t believe I had found the drugs, I really hadn’t thought that I would. Using my phone to map a route to the streets Vinny named, I happily headed their way with the lunchbox of heroin under my seat. It didn’t take but ten minutes for me to get to the warehouse parking lot they were talking about. I patiently waited, holding the lunchbox in my lap, my fingers drumming against the tin.

  Right on time, a black van pulled into the parking lot. My eyes studied the vehicle as it grew closer, being able to make out Vinny and Roger’s faces through the windshield at a distance. They pulled up right next to me, and I stepped out of the car with the lunchbox in my grasp. The two men climbed from their vehicle and moved over to me. With glossy eyes, I handed Vinny the lunchbox. He raised a brow at me and passed it over to Roger. Roger opened the side door to the van. I watched as he got the block of heroin out of the lunchbox. “Good job, kid,” Vinny complimented me. A nervous smile pulled to my lips, heart fluttering in hope of being free of it. “Now where is my money?”

  My heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach. In all of my excitement, I had forgotten all about the cash. Shit. Before I could answer him, Roger spoke up from behind him, “It’s all here.” I peered around Vinny to see Roger weighing the heroin on a digital scale.

  Vinny nodded and looked to me. It must have been clear on my face that I had forgotten about the money, and he rolled his eyes. Vinny huffed, “You got two days to come up with the ten grand, cash. If you don’t, we’ll come watch your brother until you do.”

  How in the hell was I going to come up with ten grand? At least money was easier to obtain than fifteen thousand dollars worth of heroin. I had no idea how I was going to get it, but at least I had two days to figure it out. They moved to get back in their van, content with getting their drugs back for the time being. As my mind mulled through the interaction, my brow creased. Something didn’t make sense. “Wait,” I called to them. Both men stopped and looked over to me. “Did you say that was all of the heroin? Like down to the gram?”

  “It was exactly an eighth of a kilogram. Your pop must have OD’d on his own stash before he could get to what he stole from us,” Roger shrugged.

  But that didn’t make sense… How was every single gram there if I had used some when I found it? How else would the needle have gotten into my arm? I felt my body beginning to panic, but my mind shut down—the only thought remaining telling me to run. Jumping into my car, I peeled out of the parking lot, kicking up gravel behind me. My mind was racing a mile a minute, my entire body trembling from either panic or withdrawals—or both. If I hadn’t used any of the drugs I had found, then where had I gotten heroin? I had been through every nook and cranny of the house, if my father had more heroin somewhere, I would have found it in my search.

  What if Vinny and Roger aren’t real? I shook my head at the crazy thought. There was no way they weren’t real. They had beaten and burned me, so I had the injuries to prove that they were. What if those were self-inflicted? Why was I letting my mind wonder to such absurd possibilities? How would I have beaten myself up, and why would I burn my shoulder on the stove? I would have to be more insane than my mother to do something like that. There was no way Vinny and Roger were just figments of my imagination. I had seen them at my father’s funeral before I started using painkillers and drinking. No one else has seen or heard them.

  I realized then the whispering noise had returned to my ears and was the one making these ludicrous notions. But it got me wondering… Had I really been the only one to have seen them? Maybe Lyle had seen them at the funeral. If he had, then they had to be real. Right? Tears bubbled from my eyes as I parked in the driveway, putting my forehead on the steering wheel. I was actually losing my mind, wasn’t I? I lightly tapped my forehead against the steering wheel. How weak was I? My resolve was so fragile these days, breaking down at the drop of a hat. This wasn’t how a man acted. Why couldn’t I be brave? Why couldn’t I trust my own mind?

  I had to get answers, I knew that. The clock was ticking if they were real, only having two days before they came after Lyle. Forcing myself out of the car, I did my best to compose myself as I walked into the house. As I shut the front door behind me, I could hear Lyle moving around the kitchen. It was then, or never. Taking a deep breath, I sauntered into the kitchen and immediately sat down at the dining table. “There you are. Sorry I didn’t come home last night. I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up. Since I worked late, I didn’t want to get home in the dark so I stayed the night at my coworker’s. I see you did a number on the den,” Lyle called over to me with a light chuckle as he cooked himself breakfast, mentioning the holes I had smashed into the walls.

  My knee bounced uncontrollably as I attempted to keep myself together. Battling my own sanity, anxiety, and drug withdrawals all at once was impossible to bear. “Can you come have a seat for a second? I need to ask you something,” I spoke weakly, unable to muster a voice louder than a normal volume.

  His face turned to me then, looking gravely concerned. “Yeah, sure,” he nodded and hurried over. Lyle sat down in the chair next to me, holding eye contact with me, “What’s going on?”

  Swallowing a lump in my throat, I averted my eye contact, feeling weak for what I was about to have to ask. I didn’t want him worrying anymore over me, but I needed answers. “Have you ever seen the guys that are after me? Vinny and Roger? Have they ever been over here to hang out with dad or anything?” I asked in a weak, distant tone.

  “I don’t think so. Dad never had friends over because of mom. Why do you ask?”

  “You didn’t see them at the funeral or anything? They were together. One has a buzzed blonde head and pale blue eyes, the other is tan with cropped dark brown hair. They are both really muscular and tall…” I pressed, tears starting to form in my eyes yet again.

  Lyle shook his head, “No, I didn’t. Why are you asking this? What’s going on?”

  I was really, really hoping that he had seen them, even just a vague memory would have been enough to make me feel better. My throat ran dry, unsure what to say at this point. I didn’t want to lie to him… “I... I don’t know where my mind has been lately. Ever since I got here, I’ve been in my own little world. And I’m starting to worry… That… That it’s all just in my head…” I admitted to him.

  “Oh, Jason,” Lyle frowned, putting a hand on my forearm. “You aren’t crazy, you’re just under a whole lot of stress. It’s understandable that you’re panicking. Anyone would be. Even though I haven’t seen them, I believe you completely. What brought this on? Why are you thinking like this, Jase?”

  I ripped my gaze from him yet again. I couldn�
�t tell him about the heroin, I just couldn’t. Lyle would lose all respect for me. And I didn’t even understand how the drugs got in my system at that point, my memories not connecting properly. If I divulged that information, well I was sure he would really believe I had lost it. Even though I wanted someone’s genuine opinion was what was going on, I knew no matter how much I tried to debate it, I wouldn’t end up telling him. I was too embarrassed that I had let it happen in the first place. If Vinny had been the one to shoot me up with heroin, then I should have fought harder to keep it from happening. If I had given it to myself—I didn’t even know what to think in that instance. I had no memory of injecting myself with anything. But then why I had I woke up with a syringe in my arm that morning? If only I could remember what happened after I blacked out...

  Giving him a shrug, I lied, “I guess I’m just tired and second-guessing myself. I found the heroin, though. I returned it to them just now… Now just to find or come up with ten grand.”

  Lyle smiled brilliantly at me, “You found the drugs? That’s so great! See, what did I tell you? We’re going to be fine.”

  His optimism actually soothed my woes temporarily. Maybe he was right, maybe it was just stress playing with me, trying to make sense out of this dangerous situation we had gotten dragged into. There was no way I had imagined everything. “Wanna help me finish tearing up the house?” I questioned with a weak smile. Once those guys were off my back, we were getting the hell out of there. So we might as well release some pent up rage on the walls and floors.

  Lyle grinned ear to ear, “That sounds perfect.” The two of us stood. I led him down the hall to the tool box. Fishing through it, I managed to find him a metal mallet. “Where should we start?” he asked.

  “Let’s do dad’s room,” I suggested. The two of us, eager to smash the shit out of that room, raced up the stairs. Going into the room, I found the hammer I used the night before on the floor of the closet. My eyes fell to my brother. Lyle gave a wild grin as he swung the mallet high above his head and then charged at one of the walls, slamming it into the wall as hard as he could.