January 8, 2011 by Mark Lidstone

Georgia

After something this “miraculous” happens to a person, they usually come out of it with a whole new perspective on life, a second chance, a time to make things right. Not Georgia. Though, she did try to make things right. She confessed that she was back on the drugs. She said it had been going on for quite some time but I had been away too much to notice. I noticed, I just wouldn’t allow myself to believe it.

She wasn’t paying for her heroin supply. That would have been too obvious. Instead, she was sleeping with her dealer. She had been for months. He died of AIDS shortly after Georgia was diagnosed. I could put two and two together.

She left me. I never heard from her again. I found out that she had run off with a rough crowd. Rough even for her. After some time with them, she overdosed. The doctors couldn’t bring her back.  She was dead. Just over two months after my meeting in the bar.

She was gone. Before she left she had taken every valuable I had. She left me with nothing. The only thing I had left was a pistol with a single shot. I couldn’t pull the trigger. Unlike most people who try to take their own life, I knew exactly what would happen if I did.