Go Ask Austin

I failed, Mr. Journal. I failed.

Ally is going to be so disappointed.

My hands are shaking as I write this now, I have twenty minutes until everything ends. Oops, did you see that? I'm crying, I'm so ashamed of myself, unable to control my body. Unable to control my mind. But then again, the monster always had control, didn't he?

I thought all of this was over, behind me. Three weeks cold turkey. Three weeks free. I thought I was out, but I never really was, was I?

I honestly don't know how it happened. I came home from school, after kissing Ally on the cheek. I remember her telling me that she was so proud of me. That I was doing it. But I guess even Ally can be wrong.

The urge came in flashes, jolts. One minute I feel happy, normal, and the next thing I know, I'm locked in my bathroom with you, three acid strips melting on my tongue.

Three.

Did you get that? I'm going to die.

I've overdosed.

Strange thing is, I always figured I would never know I overdosed, but rather that I would just die on one of my trips. That's what everyone said happened to Sam. But now I realized he was taking opium. I'm on acid. Mine takes time to work it's way into my system.

In other words I have twenty minutes before I'm gone. Twenty minutes to see how much of an idiot I am. Scratch that. I'm down to fifteen.

Can you believe that I even managed to get of the junk for three weeks? I can't. If you had told me I was doing it for a girl on top of it, I would have laughed in your face a month ago. And then Mrs. Gables assigned me to work with the goody-two-shoes of the school for our music project.

She changed me.

Or at least, she tried to.

She'll always be the prettiest thing I've ever seen, with her perfect brown hair, and beautiful brown eyes. My parents haven't even met her yet. But then again, when have my parents ever been involved in my life? They sure haven't seem to notice that their son was a hard-core acid addict for the last year.

You know what, Mr. Journal? I've wished every hour, no every minute, since that party that I wasn't given the laced drink. There, I admit it. I wish I hadn't become a drug addict. As much of an escape as it is for me, it's wrecked my life. Now I'll never get to graduate, or ask Ally to go to prom with me. I won't get to give her gramma's ring when I ask her to marry me.

Who am I kidding? I'm a sixteen year old drug addict. She wouldn't want to marry me anyways.

There. See him? I can start to make him out in the mirror now. The monster. Slowly creeping into my brain. Guess he never left like we thought, did he Mr. Journal? Nope. He was always hiding up there in my mind. And just when I thought Ally pulled me out, he just reeled me back in.

I'm sorry Mr. Journal, I really am.

Five minutes.

You know what I found yesterday? I was cleaning my room, when an old picture fell out of a book. It was from when I was twelve. It was the picture of me and my parents when we were at the park, from before the buisness boomed. Before they started ignoring me.

Who could have guessed that I could have fallen from that perfect life into this one in just four years? And the crazy thing about it all? I feel sorry for my parents after everything. I'm sorry that they had such a pathetic son.

But they won't have to worry about that anymore, now will they?

It's time. The words are starting to dance off the page. I'm sorry Mr. Journal, so terribly sorry. I don't know why Ally believed in me. I'm not at all as strong as she thought I was.

I'm sorry.

I love you Ally.