The New Orleans Writing Marathon is doing an exercise called “Free Write Fridays.” They post a prompt, and you write for ten minutes straight.
I did not participate in the marathon, but did do the weekly writing prompts on their Facebook page. This is the second one. The prompt was “Rush.”
© Copyright 2014 by Sara Jacobelli
“You never shot up? Never? And you’re selling this shit?” RJ shook his head, looked at her, looked at her again, sideways. “Crazy, that’s some crazy shit.”
“I just doin a little dealing, I don’t run it.” Then RJ was tying her arm off and stopped to admire her veins. “God damn, lookit this. Girl, you got some virgin veins.” They all looked at her arms. She wondered what happened to that part of her, the part that said she’d never shoot up. That part seemed gone, maybe that girl was gone, even, and she was this new person.
RJ fixed her up good. She didn’t think she’d like it. “I done speed before, ain’t no big deal really.”
“Oh baby, no. This is different. This ain’t no pills. You runnin Preludin now, this the real thing. This is what it’s all about.”
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t like needles and didn’t want to look. She closed her eyes. What am I doing here? Oh yeah, right. Me and Jimi can stay with them upstairs from the bar if we sell some Preludin. No big deal. And we can make some extra on the side if we bring em fat girls.They like fat girls, cuz fat girls can make a doctor for em, score some diet pills. So I’m just here cuz I need a place to stay.
“Feel it? There. That should do er.” RJ finished with her and tied off his own bony arm, covered with jailhouse tatts, looking for a vein. For a minute she thought it was funny, looking vainly for a vein.
The rush hit her. She didn’t think she would like it, didn’t want to like it. It felt just like being in that stolen car with those guys, Danger and T-Boy, when they gunned it up to over a hundred, one ten, one twenty, she leaned over and saw it herself on the speedometer, and they were somewhere on I-10 and then they didn’t know where they were, didn’t matter, didn’t care.
All for the rush. The going a million miles an hour rush.