You and Joey planned to spend the day together today.

So why wasn’t he answering your calls? Texts? why isn’t he home?

You decide to reluctantly go to Shane’s drug house thing, hoping to find Joey having a smoke or perhaps drinking there.

You knock on the door, tapping your foot impatiently. Shane answers, a blunt between his lips. “Mrs Lynch.” He drawls out lazily, sarcastically.

“Where’s Joey?” You huff, trying to push past him. He grabs your arm to stop you. After an intense stare down, a laugh tore from his throat and he released you.

“You’re a crazy bitch.” He says, swinging the door open and stepping to the side. “By all means, be my guest.”

“Joey?!” Furious, you storm down the hallway, stepping over beer cans and cigarette buds, throwing doors open to find him. “Joey?”

“He can’t hear you princess.” Shane chuckles from behind you, “he’s not here right now.”

“Fuck you.” You snarl, rushing in and out of rooms before going to the stairs and opening the doors upside too. You started to lose hope until the last door, and you stumble upon your worse nightmare.

There was a stained mattress on the filthy floor, to the side was a metal spoon with some syrup looking stain, a lighter and a tiny plastic bag with brown powder. Sprawled out on the mattress was your boyfriend. His eyes rolling to the back of his head with a needle hanging out the crook of his arm.

“Joe!” You gasp, your hand springing to cover your mouth. “Joey!”

Nothing.

“We were supposed to be spending the day together!” You cried, stumbling towards him. Kicking the contraband away from his side, you knelt down and undid the tie that was cutting off the circulation to his arm. “Joey can you hear me?” Nothing. Sniffling back a sob, you gingerly reach out to pull the needle from his arm, throwing it to the other side of the room. “Joe?”

Soft groaning was the only response you got.