There's a memory that haunts the worst of us, from near-death experiences or worries of getting your ass handed to you by a bully. We all have bad memories we come back to, but do you ever come back to the ones that make you feel horrible yet warm on the inside?

“That ought to show Principle Dean not to fuck with us!”

“Jesus, Bradley, keep it down” I say in a hushed voice.

“Chill Mary, it’s not like that old fart could even hear through his cubicle of a home” 

“I just don’t want you getting sent to a detention cell again” 

(It’s a memory I come back to often.)

Normally, there would be an inkling of context as to why I came back to this memory, but there’s no reason. Love is a fickle thing that has become a drug to me. It’s been so long since I’ve had my “fix,” but this was a moment I can never get away from. 

I sigh as Bradley begins rambling about how he was set up and falsely accused. His spray bottles hiss as the final touches could be made on his mural. He wasn't lying when he said he was a gifted artist. A simple wall became a magnificent piece of work. Bradley had a way of taking plain, drab things and making them look interesting. Maybe that’s why I fell for this punk loser so long ago. I wasn’t much of a punk person, but that scene of people often surrounded me. I met Bradley in Freshman year through a mutual exchange of smoking cigarettes in the back of the bleachers at my school. I was a bit awkward back then, but he didn't seem to mind. I didn’t come on to him; to be fair, I think he only talked to me because he just wanted to experience love to some extent. 

Bradley was an interesting fellow; he always had a new idea or scheme to pursue. He had a big heart and was always willing to let people have fun/rebel against authority. Did this lead to trouble? Yeah. Was it fun? Yeah. Would I ever take it back? Hell no. Around Sophomore year, we started a band with the help of 2 other classmates, we became known as the Feral Mice. I wanted us to be called the “Weekend Blunders” but Bradley said, “That’s some sad shit, Mary”. 

The band consisted of:

Me: Backup singer and Guitar

Bradley: Bass Guitar and Lead Vocalist

Caleb: Drums

Andrea: Synthesizer

We played many local shows and won a few small competitions, but our main goal was to play in a huge arena and see if we could get signed to a record label. At least that was Bradley’s dream. We all started getting really into that scene and eventually we began to spiral with drugs and alcohol. Most of my time for those years was always a blur, my parents never once questioned me nor did they notice my addiction to drugs. It became my lifeline, “Bradley with a bit of Brandy” became my staple. Smoke, hit, sex, repeat. It wasn't healthy but the feelings were real and I felt happy. My grades weren’t slipping; nobody said a word to me, and they didn't have high expectations. I had a good social status at school, which allowed me to get away with most things. It didn’t last.

Eventually, things took a turn for the worst. Andrea and Caleb began to fall out and their relationship became toxic, Bradley and I were fighting, breaking up, and making up. I was stuck in a loop and it wasn't healthy for anyone. These situations happen constantly in a cheesy rom/drama, but they often don’t show you that nasty twist life throws at you. We had a moment of love and lust and like that, Bradley was dead the following day. I remember vividly waking up next to him and calling his name but he never responded. His body was cold and he wasn't breathing. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding. I shook him and cried out his name, hoping it was a sick joke he plays occasionally. It wasn't; he was gone, and I was left with a hollow feeling. 

Junior year, what a year…I need my lifeline…

“No, you don’t”

The voice stated in a foreboding voice