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Description
He lived in a two story log cabin. The front was glass and had a deck that wrapped around with a balcony coming off the second floor. I’d seen this house before when I took the back roads to get to the creek, but never knew who lived there until now.

Walking in the back door I was amazed at how cluttered it was. Newspapers were stacked everywhere, along with boxes full of kitchen-ware and cleaning supplies.
“Did you just move in here?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “I’ve lived here seven years.”

There was a baseball bat propped up against the wall near the back door that was blood stained and had chunks of wood missing from it. As I was looking at it, he walked up behind me and picked it up and proceeded to tell me about how he got into a fight with and used it on someone. To this day I still wonder if that man made it or not.

The guy, who told me his name was Roger, loved talking about his past and all the things he was proud of that he has done. And sometimes, he would say some of the most off the wall stuff like...

“Have you ever had a piece of meat stuck in between two of your teeth before?”
‘Yeah, it’s really annoying’ I answered.
“Did you know that week old meat tastes like decomposing flesh?”

I didn't know how to answer that so I changed the subject quickly while wondering to myself how he knew what decomposing flesh tasted like, and why he didn't just floss his damn teeth.

He told me he was 39. My instincts told me he was 49. I didn't care none the less because I was getting free drugs.

I sat at the kitchen table staring at the ceiling, the floor and the wall so that I wouldn't have to make eye contact with him. He was starting to creep me out and make me question why I was here in the first place.

He walked over to the kitchen table carrying two cheap beers and offered one to me. Sitting down next to me, he opened up the little tin box that he had sitting at the edge of the table. Inside it was a bag of powder and a mirrored tile to snort off of. Pouring the powder onto the tile he fumbled around inside his wallet pulling out two bills and handing one to me. “Roll it up, you go first.” Unsure of what I was about to snort, I began to get scared, but I did it anyways. Plugging my nose with the rolled up dollar bill I snorted all that I could before gagging from the drip that was going down the back of my throat. Roger laughed at me and at that moment I didn't care. I felt so good and numb that all I wanted was to lay on the couch and smoke a cigarette.

He snorted his pile faster then I did and as soon it was gone he looked at me in the chair and told me to come lay down with him. I was so high that I didn't care that Roger, the old fat heroin addict was wanting to fuck me. We went into his bedroom and laid on the bed and talked for a few minutes about some goals we had in life and what our favorite type of cheese was. Then he reached over and stuck his hand under my shirt and pushed my bra down, grabbing my right breast in his hand, squeezing it. I sort of felt uncomfortable, but at the same time It felt good to have someone show me that I was wanted. He played with it for a little bit, licking and nibbling on it a few times before I told him we needed to stop. He got pissed off at me and said, “Wait till your family finds out that your a fuckin crack-whore... what will they think of you then Kandi?”

I got scared.
Running out of the bedroom I ran straight to the back door and ran out of it not even remembering to grab my cigarettes off the table. Walking down the driveway I fixed my bra and rubbed the makeup away that was smeared underneath my eyes. I kept questioning why I always do stuff without thinking about it first. I'm always getting myself into a mess that I cant ever get myself out of.
Half way up the driveway I realized I still had 7 more miles to walk and I knew I wouldn't be able to make it that far. I was too high to even walk straight.

Forgetting about all that had just happened to make me leave, I headed back to Rogers, because soon, I would need another fix.

Description
He lived in a two story log cabin. The front was glass and had a deck that wrapped around with a balcony coming off the second floor. I’d seen this house before when I took the back roads to get to the creek, but never knew who lived there until now.

Walking in the back door I was amazed at how cluttered it was. Newspapers were stacked everywhere, along with boxes full of kitchen-ware and cleaning supplies.
“Did you just move in here?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “I’ve lived here seven years.”

There was a baseball bat propped up against the wall near the back door that was blood stained and had chunks of wood missing from it. As I was looking at it, he walked up behind me and picked it up and proceeded to tell me about how he got into a fight with and used it on someone. To this day I still wonder if that man made it or not.

The guy, who told me his name was Roger, loved talking about his past and all the things he was proud of that he has done. And sometimes, he would say some of the most off the wall stuff like...

“Have you ever had a piece of meat stuck in between two of your teeth before?”
‘Yeah, it’s really annoying’ I answered.
“Did you know that week old meat tastes like decomposing flesh?”

I didn't know how to answer that so I changed the subject quickly while wondering to myself how he knew what decomposing flesh tasted like, and why he didn't just floss his damn teeth.

He told me he was 39. My instincts told me he was 49. I didn't care none the less because I was getting free drugs.

I sat at the kitchen table staring at the ceiling, the floor and the wall so that I wouldn't have to make eye contact with him. He was starting to creep me out and make me question why I was here in the first place.

He walked over to the kitchen table carrying two cheap beers and offered one to me. Sitting down next to me, he opened up the little tin box that he had sitting at the edge of the table. Inside it was a bag of powder and a mirrored tile to snort off of. Pouring the powder onto the tile he fumbled around inside his wallet pulling out two bills and handing one to me. “Roll it up, you go first.” Unsure of what I was about to snort, I began to get scared, but I did it anyways. Plugging my nose with the rolled up dollar bill I snorted all that I could before gagging from the drip that was going down the back of my throat. Roger laughed at me and at that moment I didn't care. I felt so good and numb that all I wanted was to lay on the couch and smoke a cigarette.

He snorted his pile faster then I did and as soon it was gone he looked at me in the chair and told me to come lay down with him. I was so high that I didn't care that Roger, the old fat heroin addict was wanting to fuck me. We went into his bedroom and laid on the bed and talked for a few minutes about some goals we had in life and what our favorite type of cheese was. Then he reached over and stuck his hand under my shirt and pushed my bra down, grabbing my right breast in his hand, squeezing it. I sort of felt uncomfortable, but at the same time It felt good to have someone show me that I was wanted. He played with it for a little bit, licking and nibbling on it a few times before I told him we needed to stop. He got pissed off at me and said, “Wait till your family finds out that your a fuckin crack-whore... what will they think of you then Kandi?”

I got scared.
Running out of the bedroom I ran straight to the back door and ran out of it not even remembering to grab my cigarettes off the table. Walking down the driveway I fixed my bra and rubbed the makeup away that was smeared underneath my eyes. I kept questioning why I always do stuff without thinking about it first. I'm always getting myself into a mess that I cant ever get myself out of.
Half way up the driveway I realized I still had 7 more miles to walk and I knew I wouldn't be able to make it that far. I was too high to even walk straight.

Forgetting about all that had just happened to make me leave, I headed back to Rogers, because soon, I would need another fix.