Page 91 of Dark Room Junkie

However, when I stood in front of the entrance, my heart sank into my stomach. I stood there trembling, barely able to breathe, and couldn’t believe how low I had sunk. I even considered reaching out to Tom, but then the door opened, and a woman appeared. She was maybe around thirty and seemed quite nice. “Do you still want to come in?” she asked in a soft voice with attentive eyes. “We’re closing soon.”

My vision somehow blurred, and I looked down at the ground. Never in my life had I felt so ashamed. I always felt like dirt, but now I had certainty. I was dirt.

“Do you have an ID?” the woman asked.

I just nodded.

“Then come in. You won’t survive the night out there.”

Everything in me resisted entering that shelter, but my body somehow managed to move and walk in.

27

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Noé

“I’m not feeling well,”I typed to Chris with one hand.“Gonna have to skip today.”

That was the understatement of the year, but not even ten horses could drag me to band practice today. My head still throbbed from Steffan’s punch and my right hand felt numb. On top of that, I had an itchy throat and my stomach rebelled with cramps due to hunger. With the determination to eat everything, I sat in front of three slices of bread, butter, and honey.

Every calorie counts. Maybe I’ll feel a bit better afterward—at least physically.

As I struggled to reach for the knife, someone approached the table.

“Do you need help?” It was the woman from last night. She held a small plastic box in her hands and sat down on the chair next to me. “May I?”

I nodded and allowed her to take the knife from me and spread butter on the bread. As she smiled at me, I sank even deeper into myself and pushed away all thoughts of my wretched life.

“And now eat,” she said, then opened the box beside her. “I’ll bandage your hand. It looks pretty bad. Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that,” I replied softly, taking the first slice of bread.

I ate slowly, assessing with every bite whether my stomach could handle it. Meanwhile, the woman examined my hand and asked me to make a few movements.

“It looks okay,” she said, retrieving a bandage out of the box. “Doesn’t seem to be broken. But you should rest your hand.” With a concerned look, she wrapped a supportive bandage around it. “Do you know where you can go today?”

Although I had no idea, I nodded. But I had a plan. I would arrange for a place to stay overnight. I still had a whole day to find a solution. Someone from my long list of flings would surely be happy to hear from me again.

Hopefully ...

“It’s your birthday today,” the woman whispered as if it were a secret. “I saw it on your ID yesterday.”

“That ...” My voice sounded too weak, so I cleared my throat. “That doesn’t change the situation.”

“I know. But maybe something will come up.”

I was too tired for hope. The past few days still felt like a hammer blow, and inside me, there was a gaping emptiness.

“Did you also get one in the eye? That looks ...”

She reached out to me, but I turned my head away. Everything became too much at once. My plate was empty, and this place would be closing in twenty minutes at most, so I stood up, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and backed away. “Thank you,” I said, holding up my bandaged hand. “For everything.”

“The door here is always open for you.”

Reluctantly, I managed a nod before making my escape. My heart was racing, and I was just glad to be able to leave the emergency shelter again. This night had done nothing good for my ego. Confusing dreams had repeatedly awakened me, and I felt miserable.

Trying to convince myself that choosing the shelter was the right thing to do didn’t help either. The sight of the people seeking refuge there almost made it impossible for me to consider my decision sensible. As arrogant as it might sound, I was far from ready to put myself on the same level as them. Yet, it was a painful realization that I had looked into a mirror that night, and it revealed where my life was heading.

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