“But Massimo—” Roberto begins.
“Do it!” I order him. “Don’t come back tomorrow without it.”
My other family members exchange worried looks, but say nothing.
When he arrives the next day, Roberto waits while the nurse changes my IV bag.
I only spare him a glance. Instead, my eyes hatefully follow the nurse, watching her every move. Luciano had told me how the doctors and nurses tried to save Matteo when he was brought in, but they gave up in the end, confirming what I already suspected: it’s partly their fault he’s dead. They gave up.
I would’ve never given up. Ever. She’s a murderer, like the others.
The thought only stokes my rage all the more.
“There you go, all good,” the nurse tells me.
I leer at her and she starts slightly before leaving in a huff.
When she’s gone I relax. I turn my attention to Roberto, who tosses a cocaine bag to me. I’d almost forgotten about my request. I stare at the bag for a moment, then quickly shove it beneath my pillow.
“Enjoy.” He has an angry look on his face and turns to go. But then he freezes. When he faces me again, his expression is softer.
“Remember what you told me about not wallowing in self-pity?” Roberto says. “How I should get back to my routine?”
“It’s kind of hard to get back to my ‘routine’ as you call it at the moment,” I retort.
“Yeah well, start a new routine,” Roberto says. “Throw yourself into physiotherapy. Make little daily goals for yourself. First day you’ll wiggle your toes. Second day you’ll move your ankles. And so on.”
“You sound like my therapist,” I joke.
“That’s because I am,” Roberto replies in all seriousness. “Please Massimo, don’t do this. You don’t need drugs to dull the pain. You’ll just make things worse.”
“You’re wrong,” I tell him. “I need all the help I can get right now.”
“Let me take the cocaine home.” He extends an open palm. “Give me the bag.” When I don’t move he sighs and his shoulders slump as if he has all the weight of the world pressing down upon him. “If you want to get on your feet, drugs aren’t going to help. I’m not going to bring you any again.”
With that he turns around and leaves.
When I’m alone I retrieve the translucent bag.
6
Massimo
Ipause as I’m opening the container. It would be so easy to snort all the cocaine in one sitting. I’ll probably die. Then again, I’m in a hospital, so there’s a chance I’ll pull through when the nurses finally notice. Hell, given how understaffed this place is, they’ll probably notice too late.
Dying is the easy way out, though. Why not just take a few hits and forget all my problems? The constant lethargy I feel will become a thing of the past. I’ll be full of energy, able to walk.
I’ll probably become an addict. I’ve always scoffed at those who got addicted to drugs. Telling myself they were weak. But so what? I didn’t understand their pain. Didn’t understand how eager they were to escape from reality.
I stare at the bag. I’ll just have one hit. Just one. I’ll—
But that’s only another easy way out. No, I need this to be hard. Part of my punishment for letting Matteo die. I can’t have even one hit.
I hurl the bag into the garbage, not allowing myself to take that path.
But I understand Matteo now better than I ever did.
Matteo.
