Our favorite ladies are back finally..
It was about 3 am when we returned home. I called for Zara, but she didn’t answer.. Was she asleep?
“Zarrrraaa doll, I’m home! Zara?”
I opened her door, she wasn’t in her room. So I checked mine, as I have often found her sleeping in my bed. If she was there again I didn’t wish to rouse her, so I quietly and gently opened the door. I was immediately assaulted by the smell of vomit,drugs, booze and orgasm. I ran over to her, she was still breathing, but barely.
Next to her lay an empty needle and an empty bottle of pain pills which she presumably washed down with the empty bottle of Jack.
“Zara, sweetie why….” I pulled her into my lap and called 911. “My friend, tried to kill herself… I found an empty bottle of Oxycodone, A full bottle of jack, and… A needle, but it could have been insulin…”
“An ambulance is on the way, do you have a nasal bottle of Narcan? If you do, use it now…She may not make it until the ambulance gets there…”
“My fiance is an EMT…He probably has a shot of it..” I told dispatcher, then yelling for Dumas. “BABE I NEED NARCAN!!! STAT!” He brought it in and gave her a shot. Shortly after the needle was removed, about the time the ambulance arrived, She had vomited all over me and the bed, her breathing was a little stronger, but we were still losing her. The Narcan hadn’t been effective as it should have been, but it would hopefully be enough to get to the hospital. I rode with her to the hospital while my fiance stayed behind to clean.
It would be a long road to recovery. I was left asking myself so many questions. Why was she doing this? What was bothering her so bad? She always seems so happy, I knew she was smoking weed, occasionally a few harder drugs, and drinking a lot, and had pain pills from the accident, but I never thought to ask why…
All of these thoughts rushing through my mind, I began to cry. I almost lost my sister, and best friend.
Why? Why? Why?
“Why did she do this?”
“Did I just say that outloud?”
“No, I did,” answered the paramedic “was she showing signs or symptoms of depression?”
“Not that I noticed, just excessive drinking and the ganja…”
“What was in the needle”
“I dont know, possibly heroine? She’s diabetic so also could have been insulin.” I began to cry harder and the EMT left the questions alone for a moment.
when we arrived at the emergency room, they pumped her stomach, and jacked her full of fluids, which was in turn making her Ill. My heart shattered a little more everytime she retched. I felt as if all of this was somehow my fault. I petted her hair and held her hand. The Withdrawal and detox were setting in. wait would be a long road to recovery and for now I couldn’t get the answers to my questions. They moved her to ICU, where she would stay for a few days, and then we would decide what was best for her from there.
The next night, I thought she was sleeping, as she had been all day when she wasn’t getting sick or being poked and prodded. I was exhausted, so I laid in her bed next to her to try and sleep too. Instead, as soon my head hit her chest and I heard her heart beating, I began crying silently. All of the questions shrouding my mind again.
“My Kelli, Don’t cry. Please it hurts. I let you go to be happy so please don’t cry…”
“You almost died, you were going to leave me, then who would I complain to about Dumas? Zara why? Was it an accident? Please say it was.”
” I can’t lie to you my Kelli…”
“Seeing you, happy with someone else… I was already dead inside… I kept hoping you’d remember…”
“What, Zara? I really don’t understand.”
She grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back so that she was looking in my eyes. There was a fire in them I hadn’t noticed before. The last thing I remember, she was kissing me passionately, massaging my tongue with hers her breathing erratic. Her heart rate climbing, dangerously, and my panties became a pool…