A STORY by CODY ROGGIO
Charge It to The Game
I’m in Marshall’s after I relapse and Chris and I are smelling the unlit candles. Brittany found me, early in the morning, nodding off in front of the French press. I was waiting for water to boil. She ran my pockets and found my needle and dope. She was pissed but we both had to leave for work so a fight would have to wait.
Brittany called Chris to tell him I relapsed so he picked me up from work. I wasn’t high hanging out with Chris. I usually only had money to get high in ten minute increments, I just picked the wrong ten minutes. I’m learning there’s never a “right” ten minute period where being high is okay.
Brittany got clean because she had an upcoming court date. She just buckled down and took suboxone for a week and didn’t use until she felt better. I told her I would follow her lead, but without the pending court case as motivation it was a little harder for me.
Brittany texted Chris, who’s number we got from an NA meeting, then she texted a few others who didn’t really need to know, but whatever. Charge it to the Game.
So I’m with Chris and we’re completely sober, smelling the candles. Chris has ten years, I’ve got eight hours. Chris picks up a tangerine-scented one, “here:” and I smell it. It smells like tangerines.
“I like the ones that say they smell like emotions or moods, instead of like apple pies or something.” I say.
Chris laughs, “what do you mean?”
“Like, here,” I say, pulling the lid off of one called “First Rain After Your Parents’ Divorce” and I smell it. I let Chris smell it.
“I don’t like that one at all.” He says.
I put it back and pick up “You Scatter Your Dad’s Ashes Next To Your Mom’s Ashes At Your Childhood Home And Then The House Is Sold So You Can Never Visit Them Again Or Else It Would Be Trespassing” and breathe in. It smells like the countryside and unpaved driveways. I hold it under Chris’s nose. I can tell he doesn’t like it but he’s such a nice guy that he smiles and nods anyway.
I pick up another called, “You Have Cried Wolf So Many Fucking Times To Your Family It’s Wild That They Even Answer The Phone Anymore, Do You Even Have An Ounce Of Honesty In Your Body Or Is Writing Stupid Poems The Only Way You Can Ever Tell The Truth? Your Cousins Don’t Want To Fucking See You High Anymore, You Spent Your Entire Twenties In An Emotionless Daze And You’re About To Turn Thirty, It’s Not Fucking Cute Anymore, Your Family Doesn’t Think It’s Cute, Your Girlfriend Doesn’t Think It’s Cute, No One Thinks It’s Cute, And You Have So Many People Rooting For You And The Only Thing You’re Consistent At Is Letting Them Down Every Single Fucking Time, And You Get Clean And You’re Still Broke And Life Still Doesn’t Make You Lemonade And Nothing Gets Better So What Do You Do, You Give Up, You Pretend Everything Is So Daunting And How Can You Possibly Manage Living A Normal Life, But Guess What, Every Fucking Person In The Entire World Is Fucking Doing It, Every Day, It Doesn’t Fucking Stop Ever, And You Can’t Afford To Lose A Job Or Even Suffer A Small Accident Or You’re Fucked, So Fucked, Your Safety Net Is Dead And Gone, So What Are You Going To Do, Because It’s Probably Time You Made A Fucking Choice, And You Can’t Afford To Make The Wrong Ones Anymore Because This Is The Last Time You’ll Be Afforded Any Slack, The Next Time You Put The Rope Around Your Neck You’d Better Plan On Fucking Hanging From It” and take the lid off
and lift it to my face.
Cody Roggio lives in Philadelphia with three cats, two of which don't like each other and it's very stressful sometimes. His first chapbook, "Not Great / Thanks for Asking" is available through Thirty West Publishing House. Instagram: @somethrills.