Short and not sweet at all....

I’d known her since we were both little, the fun kid who always had big ideas on how to pass a summer afternoon. “Let’s make a swimming pool,” she’d say and then we’d spend the next four hours digging a hole. Now here she was, practically incoherent sitting on my bathroom floor trying to hide from the demons that surfaced when the right combination of chemicals were ingested into the blood stream. I wanted to cry, but at the moment she was doing enough crying for the both of us.