Fictions by Ima.

      Looking out the window of his room at the rehabilitation centre where his wife put him, he didn’t see the neatly trimmed bushes or the canaries in the trees, he didn’t hear them either, didn’t hear the other patients cry out and curse and beg for just a taste, he didn’t see the blue clouds and definitely not the world; all he could see outside the window was the past one year of his life playing itself out like a movie. He could see himself when he was just a normal person with a loving family, then he could see the day Ben introduced him to crystal meth, he could see himself wanting more of it, he could hear Don singing, he could hear the voice, he could see himself stealing from his office, he could hear himself lying to his wife and son, he could see Shirley on the hospital bed, he could hear Ben trying to help him out of the drug, he heard the door slam when he walked him out of the house, he could see all the places in the house where he hid his stash, h...

The dark clouds rolled in on a warm Sunday evening. Tom and Karen sat out at the patio while the children were watching the television. It was nice to hear Damien talk to his baby sister as if she understood him and the air outside the house was very nice as well. Both Tom and Karen reminisced on the good old days but Karen seemed bent on talking about her father. Tom found the topic rather boring but like a bulldog, she was persistent so he surrendered. He had a foreboding. It nudged at him while she continued. It was as if his ears popped open and he began to hear what she wasn’t saying, seeing what she wasn’t really showing him, understanding what she didn’t explain. He made as if to get up and but only one look from her got him to sit back down and this time, more humbled and frozen. He couldn’t answer any of her questions. His lips couldn’t move but his eyes gave him away. He was really frozen. He couldn’t hear the children anymore all he could hear was her voice and the...

               Tom He had settled it in his mind and he wasn’t going back. The last time he tried to quit the drugs he went into a terrible feat; he was seeing things that weren’t there, hearing voices of people he didn’t see and shadows that followed him everywhere. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, he was totally useless to himself. He lied to his wife that he had  the flu but he knew she didn’t believe him. Karen had been weird herself. She was snooping around, asking questions and going through his clothes. He was only too weak to do anything about it. He tried to stay clean for about a week but it was HARD! Too hard! He was always thirsty and hungry but food didn’t satisfy him. He was cold, then hot; slow really slow. He couldn’t think, couldn’t even help Damien out with his home work. He was worse off it than when he was on it. So he went back. Yes he did. He went back and it felt good; it felt lik...

            Karen She sat on the patio and sipped from the mug her mother gave her on her last birthday. As the lemonade went down in her, she recalled what Shirley told her while she was in the hospital under observation. Karen remembered fearing for her child’s life and more, her sanity. Shirley was in all sorts of moods, first she was happy then sad then weary then depressed then frantic then she started hallucinating before she fell asleep; she looked peaceful until she started talking in her sleep. What frightened Karen wasn’t that Shirley spoke in her sleep but what her baby said. Shirley didn’t know that she was talking in her sleep and Karen was glad she didn’t know. For if she knew what she said, “No! A child shouldn’t have to live with that.” Another piece of the puzzle popped up in her mind. It was Damien and his complains about Tom’s borrowing. As she thought about it, she remembered how her father used to borro...