Authors: JaQuavis Coleman

The Dopefiend (4 page)

BOOK: The Dopefiend

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“Got a surprise for you,” Apple said as he dried his hands off with the dishrag and walked toward her.

“Ooh, what is it?” Hazel asked excitedly as she clapped her hands together and jumped up and down cheerfully.

“Close your eyes,” Apple said, smiling, going into the backroom and playfully tossing the rag at Hazel. Hazel lit up as she closed her eyes and waited to see what Apple had for her. Moments later she heard Apple re-entering the room.

“Hurry!” Hazel said as the anticipation built. She then felt something being laid on her shoulders and she quickly opened her eyes. She saw the mink coat and went crazy. “Thank you, Daddy!” she screamed as she rubbed the fur and spun around in it. Apple smiled, feeling so good that he was making her happy. It was the first time that she had called him “Daddy” and it brought joy to his heart hearing that word come out of her mouth. The mink was a tad bit too big for her, but she didn't care.

“You're welcome, baby girl,” he said as he watched her prance around in the coat excitedly. “That's the same coat Princess Diana wore.”

“Princess Diana? The princess?” she asked as she kept admiring the coat.

“That's right. But you're my princess,” he said. Hazel couldn't stop smiling and she ran over and hugged Apple tightly as she laid her head on his chest. Apple held his daughter and realized that he had to get out of the game and make a better life for her at that point.

“One last flip,” he whispered as he thought about getting out of the game for good. “Okay, Hazel, I am about to get ready to hit the highway. You are going over to Ms. Johnson's house for the night,” Apple said, referring to his elderly next-door neighbor who occasionally watched Hazel when Apple took trips to re-up from his Arabic dope connect, Hassan.

“Okay,” Hazel answered as she faded into the back room and gathered her overnight bag. “Thanks again, Apple,” Hazel yelled as she admired herself in the dresser's mirror. She looked so glamorous. She could imagine herself in the city of New York, walking through the park with her father protecting her, while mimes did their acts for her. The scene in her head was just like a movie. She felt on top of the world in that all-white mink coat. Nevertheless, that good feeling would soon turn into anguish.

Later that night Apple was arrested while transporting two kilos of heroin on I-75. Hazel sat up and waited for her father, but he never returned. The next time she would see him would be at a prison, speaking through thick glass. That's when Hazel's world crumbled and the streets became her parents. The streets raised her and her life would never be the same.

Hazel snapped out of her dream, finally waking from her nod, and saw that they were almost near Flint. She smiled as she thought about how good she felt the night that Apple had given her the mink coat. It was the last good memory she had of him. That smile instantly died when she thought about what her life was like currently. She looked over at Seven and he seemed to be in deep thought, in his own little world. She looked at his strong jaw line and ebony brown skin and was starting to look at him in a different light. However, she flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror at herself. The bags under her brown eyes and her brittle hair confirmed that she wouldn't have a chance with him. The drugs had taken a toll on her appearance and she was looking more like thirty than twenty years old.
I got to get my shit together,
she thought as she sunk in her seat and waited to be dropped off.

Chapter Four

“What the fuck are you doing, you bitch-ass nigga?” Hazel asked as she kicked and screamed while Seven forcefully carried her up the stairs that led to his apartment. He picked her small frame up with ease and her bites, kicks, and insults didn't faze him as he thought about the task at hand. Once he pulled into his apartment complex and Hazel noticed that it wasn't Millie's place, she began to ask questions about why they were stopping there. He told Hazel that she was going to stay with him for a while and she instantly refused, so he took the matters into his own hands by forcing her.

Hazel wasn't thinking about anything but getting back to Millie's spot so she could get whatever was left of Rico's dope into her veins. Her body was itching for the good smack to tantalize it and Seven was hating on her high. “ Get yo' damn hands off of me!” she yelled as a elderly black lady with curlers in her hair stepped out of her door to see what was going on.

“Everything's fine, Mrs. Dixon. Just go back in!” Seven ordered, still in his low, calm voice as he carried Hazel up while she threw constant blows at him. Still having Hazel clenched in his right arm, Seven reached the door, quickly put the key in the hole, and unlocked it. He pulled Hazel in and tossed her on the couch.

“Just calm down, Hazel,” Seven demanded as he wiped the back of his neck to see if he was bleeding.

“What the fuck are you doing? Kidnapping me?” Hazel said as she quickly stood from the couch with her hands on her hips. She breathed heavily as she tried to brush past Seven, only to have him grab her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Just calm down, damn,” Seven said as he lightly pushed her back on the couch. “Look, we can do this shit all day if you want. But I'm not letting you leave. Not yet,” Seven said as he held his arms out as if he was inviting her to try again.

“Fine!” Hazel yelled as she crossed her arms and flopped on the couch.

“You still bite your lip when you get mad,” Seven stated as he grinned while noticing Hazel bite on her bottom lip.

Hazel didn't even notice that she was doing it until Seven pointed it out, and she immediately stopped. “Shut up!” she said as she picked up a pillow and threw it at him. She tried her best not to smile, but Seven knew that she had calmed down. She felt her high dying down and started to feel normal again.

“You hungry?” Seven asked as he walked into his kitchen that sat in the corner of his spacious threee-bedroom apartment.

Hazel didn't answer. She continued to fold her arms and thought about how Millie was getting high without her. There was no other place that Hazel would've rather been than on cloud nine, but Seven was determined on preventing that from happening.

What the fuck is this nigga problem? He doesn't own me. Why do this nigga care so much . . . damn!
Hazel thought as she sulked on the couch. She watched as Seven locked the door from the inside with a key.
Damn, I can't get out without that damn key,
she thought as she grew even angrier. The heroin was calling for her and she wanted to get it to it desperately.

Hours passed and Hazel had eased up a bit. She and Seven were sitting back talking about old times and how they used to hate each other as kids. Back then, Apple would go and pick up Seven and bring him to the house with him and Hazel at times. Hazel always had a little crush on Seven, but Seven was wise beyond his years. At the age of nine or ten he thought like an eighteen-year-old, so Hazel wasn't even on his radar. The only thing that was on his mind was becoming just like Apple.

Seven looked at Hazel, who sat on his couch Indian style while putting popcorn in her mouth. Music was playing in the background and they were both having a good time reminiscing while playing dominoes.

“You know, me and yo' pops used to play this all the time,” Seven said as he cradled all his dominoes in his two palms and checked out what he had.

“Seriously? Me too. We used to play on Saturday nights and just chill and vibe out to music,” Hazel said as a wave of dÃ©jÃ vu overcame her. She had just realized that she and Seven were doing the same thing she and Apple used to do. Hazel smiled and felt warm inside at the thought. That's when she realized that she hadn't had a good time like that in a long while. Hazel scooped up her dominoes like a pro, checking out her hand.

“What you got?' Seven asked, waiting for her to make her move.

“Don't worry about what I got, nigga,” Bam! Hazel smacked the table, placing the domino on the board. “Gimme twenty,” she said proudly and she gave him a big smile. Seven smiled, loving how hood Hazel was. He stared at her while she was writing her score down and he noticed how naturally beautiful she was. She was rough around the edges but if she got herself together she could be a very attractive girl. He quickly wiped away the notion when he thought about whose daughter she was. She was a far cry from his current girlfriend, GiGi, who was an upcoming big time model.

“You cool peoples,” Seven said as he looked at the small apple-shaped birthmark on her face, which was a constant reminder of whose offspring she was.

“Yeah, you cool too,” Hazel answered.

“I haven't chilled like this in a while. Nigga be so busy and all,” Seven said as he placed a domino on the board.

“Ol' girl don't entertain you?” Hazel asked as she snapped her finger and looked into the air. “What's her name . . . CeCe?”

“GiGi. You know her name, ma. Stop fronting,” Seven said as he slightly grinned and shook his head.

“Oh yeah, GiGi. That's her name. That high-yellow bitch be riding through the hood thinking she all that,” Hazel said as she went her turn with the dominoes.

“Hater,” Seven said, knowing it would get under her skin. They both laughed it off and chilled and talked about old times until Seven ended the night by giving Hazel his room while he slept on the couch. It was the first time Hazel had slept in a bed in a long time because she always fell asleep in dope houses or on Millie's small apartment's floor in the projects. That comfortable sleep would be short-lived because her boyfriend crept in and woke her up in the middle of the night.

Chapter Five

The crashing sounds of the thunderstorm echoed throughout the apartment and the thud of raindrops hitting the windowpane created its own soundtrack. Hazel's body shook and sweat dripped off of her back as her boyfriend, Heroin Jones, called for her. She tossed and turned in Seven's bed as she frantically scratched her arms, trying to stop the feeling of things crawling on her. Hazel still was asleep, but her Jones was wide awake. Her body called for the drug and Hazel began to scream loudly as the crawling feeling was getting too much to bear. Nightmares of bugs crawling all over her body had her terrified.

Moments later, Seven came in with only pajama pants on, displaying his built physique. He switched on the light and saw Hazel scratching herself vigorously, tossing, and turning frantically.

“Hazel,” Seven whispered as he approached her. “Hazel,” he called again as he sat on the bed and gently grabbed her, cradling her to stop her from scratching herself so hard.

“Nooo!” Hazel screamed while continuing to scratch herself so hard that she bled. She was still in her sleep.

“Hazel,” Seven called in his low tone, but this time with more force. He began to gently rock her. Hazel never opened her eyes. She was having a bad nightmare, but she quickly began to calm down at the sound of Seven's voice and his warm embrace.

“Shh, You good, ma. You good,” he said softly as he held her tight in his arms. Hazel eventually stopped tossing, and rested on his shoulders. Seven then gently laid her back down and watched as she began to lightly snore.

After watching her for a few minutes, he carefully stood up, trying to not wake her, and exited the room. He grabbed his pillow off the couch and returned to the room. He then lay on the floor, right next to the bed, and before long he was sound asleep too.

The smell of food cooking invaded Hazel's sleep and she sat up and stretched her arms above her head while yawning. She looked around, having to remember exactly where she was. She looked around the bed and saw traces of blood and instantly knew that she had been scratching herself while asleep again. She looked at her arms and saw the scratch marks to verify it. With her hair all over her head, she headed to the living room, following the smell. She entered the living room, which was next to the kitchen. She only had on panties and a bra, but she was far from shy and didn't mind. When she came out she saw Seven standing over the stove cooking, shirtless. He had a smooth, tattoo-free body and strong, broad shoulders
. Damn, Seven has grown up,
Hazel thought as she remembered back in the day when he had a bird's chest.

“Good morning,” Seven said without even turning around. He had heard her creep in.

“Morning,” Hazel said as she walked in.

“You want some eggs?” Seven said as he turned around with a pot in his hand. “Ooh!” he said as he quickly turned back around, turning his back toward Hazel. “You don't have any clothes on,” he said, surprised.

“Boy, you act like you ain't never saw no titties before,” Hazel said as she scratched her itching hair.

“Hazel, go put on some clothes. I have some shirts in my top drawer,” he demanded as he never took a peek, keeping his back turned toward her. Hazel grew offended that he didn't want to look at her half-naked body. She had never met a man who turned down a glance of a naked woman.

“I guess,” Hazel said just before she headed back to the room to get a shirt.

Seven shook his head from side to side as he began to fix their plates, leaving the sausage only for her plate. Seven was a vegetarian and didn't eat meat at all. It was a personal health decision rather than a religious one.

Hazel returned to the kitchen and sat at the table. Seven placed a plate in front of her and took a seat across from her so he could eat.

“Why are you doing this?” Hazel questioned, wondering why Seven was being so nice to her.

“Doing what?” Seven asked as he put a scoop of fruit into his mouth.

“Being nice and shit. Why are you trying to help me?” Hazel asked, trying to read Seven and find out his ulterior motives. “You must want something,” Hazel said as she looked down at her breast, signaling that Seven wanted sex.

“Chill out, ma. It ain't that type of party, believe me. And plus, you're not my type anyway,” Seven said as he kind of smirked after taking a look at her. Hazel instantly became embarrassed and felt that Seven acted as if he was above her.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hazel retorted as she jerked her neck, getting louder.

“Nothing, ma. Look, your father was my hero. I told him that I would get you clean and that's what I intend on doing. Nothing more, nothing less. Eat your food, it's getting cold,” he said as he watched her fold her arms, obviously angry at his comment.

“Whatever!” she said as she started to eat. “Anyway, thanks for helping me, Seven. I really want to get off that shit, ya know?” Seven's calmness made her calm and she decided to play nice.

“No thank you needed. We're just going to shake this shit off . . . together,” he responded. Hazel smiled, feeling good about Seven having her back after she had avoided him for so long. Every time she had seen him in the hood, he would give her money and tell her that she needed to visit her father with him. Hazel would always blow him off, but he stayed persistent. He acted like he cared and it was finally getting to her.

“So, how did you get on that shit anyway? You grew up around that shit and knew what it does to a person, why would you do it?” Seven asked, trying to get a better understanding.

Hazel noticed how straightforward Seven was and he never beat around the bush. “It's a long story,” Hazel answered as she took a sip of her orange juice.

“I have all the time in the world,” Seven answered. Hazel closed her eyes and took Seven back to the night where she was formerly introduced to a boy named Heroin.

Hazel was sixteen and in a detention center for troubled teen females. Pasadena Girls' Detention Center was the name of the hellhole that Hazel called home for just over four years. After her father was incarcerated, Ms. Johnson gained custody of her but shortly afterward, she died from a heart attack. Things were never the same for Hazel after that. After numerous foster homes, Hazel couldn't get placed in a home because of her run-ins with the law. She got caught stealing from department stores on numerous occasions and the judge ordered her to a stint at the lock-up.

One of the counselors at Pasedena took a liking to Hazel. Her name was Millian Summers, a.k.a. Millie. Millie was straight out of the east coast and came to Flint in search of a better lifestyle. She was only twenty-six, not that much older than the girls she supervised. She landed a job at Pasadena and immediately became a role model for the female detainees. Millie was the youngest faculty member there, so she related to the girls more than any other counselors. Millie came in third shift to watch over them, the perfect schedule for a down-low and functional dope addict. She would take dope breaks in the wee hours of the night while everyone was asleep and it went unnoticed for over two years; that was, until Hazel stumbled upon her secret.

Hazel woke up in the middle of the night, suffering from a bad headache. The stress of being around hundreds of girls and their attitudes could do that to a person frequently. She left her dorm room in search of Millie, the only counselor on duty at the time. Hazel checked the front desk where the counselors usually stationed themselves, but Millie was nowhere to be found. Hazel looked around to see if anyone was looking, because she saw a perfect opportunity to take some Xanax pills. The pills were supposed to treat anxiety, but most of the girls there used it to get high. It made them feel lazy and on cloud nine if crushed up and taken through the nose. Hazel knew that she could get a lot of trade with the pills, so she jumped on the rare opening. She looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then reached over the desk and pulled open the desk drawer, where the staff kept the pills. She took out two bottles and stuffed them into her panties swiftly. “Where is Millie?” Hazel whispered as she looked around to see if she could get anything else from the desk while Millie was away. Hazel didn't see anything so she fled to the communal bathroom, not wanting to press her luck. She didn't want to return to the room, because her tattletale roommate would surely snitch her out if she saw the bottles. Hazel was going to empty the pills into a piece of tissue paper and leave the pill bottles in the bathroom so she wouldn't have any evidence left in her room. Hazel zipped into the bathroom and quickly opened the door to the stall so that she could relieve herself of the bottles, but what she saw was like a flashback to her early childhood. She saw Millie sitting on the toilet with a needle sticking out of her arm. Millie was drooling from her bottom lip and slowly rocking back and forth as she looked like she was exhausted.

“Millie,” Hazel called as she couldn't believe what she was seeing. It reminded her of the day she found her mother dead in the bathroom when she was just a little girl. “Millie,” she called again, this time nudging her in the forehead lightly.

“Hey, Hazelnut,” Millie slurred sluggishly after she glanced up at Hazel. “What you doing in here, baby?” she asked, high out of her mind. Hazel looked down at Millie and admired her pure beauty. She had no idea that she used drugs. Millie's appearance didn't seem as if she was user, but all that glitters, sometimes, is not gold. She kept nice clothes and kept her hair done in the latest fashion. Her smooth dark skin was flawless, and to many of the girls in the detention center, she was their idol.

Hazel began to get an urge and she didn't know what it was exactly. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to try what was making Millie feel so good and what used to make her mother feel the same way. Hazel stepped back and walked to the bathroom door, locking it. She walked back to the stall as watched as Millie continued to rock back and forth in a dazed-like state.

“Can I try some?” she asked in the most innocent voice. She wanted to be just like Millie and share her joy.

“Sure,” Millie said, not even realizing what she was saying or doing. Millie was feeling so good, so free that she didn't realize that she was giving her protÃ©gÃ© death in the form of an addiction. Hazel slowly pulled the half-full syringe out of Millie's arm and took a seat on the floor next to her, leaning her back on the side of the stall. She instantly remembered how her mother would smack her arm trying to create a vein to shoot the dope in, so she emulated her, smacking her own forearm.
Just like Mama,
she thought as she smiled, thinking that she was becoming a woman. That was all she knew. The only two women who she ever looked up to got on the mystical dope train and she was about to jump aboard. Hazel wanted to experience that magic ride also. In her mind, it was her rite of passage. By shooting the dope, she was becoming a woman in her young, adolescent mind. A big, green vein popped up after a couple of slaps and Hazel went to a place where only a dopefiend could fathom. A place so blissful, a place so cold, and a place so . . . dark.

Tears streamed down Hazel's face as she stopped telling the shameful story to Seven. She wished that night never had happened. It was the night that she got addicted to heroin and gave her life to the drug.

“Damn, ma,” Seven said in disbelief as he stared into her teary eyes. He couldn't believe that she had been using since she was only sixteen years old. Seven usually would have looked down on a dopefiend, chalking it up to being weak-minded, but the way Hazel told the story it was as if it was her destiny. As if she had no control over the inevitable. He felt so sorry for her.

“So that's how it all started,” Hazel admitted as she wiped her tears away and tried to shake the sadness off.

“That's deep. But you know what?” Seven said as he placed his hand under Hazel's chin and lifted her head.

“What?” Hazel answered as she looked at him in his brown eyes.

BOOK: The Dopefiend

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