Joshua

He sat there. In his bedroom, alone on the bed. He thought of the horrible way she had treated him. How incredibly rude to withdraw her agreement to go on a date with him. After all, she was his best friend. He adored her. He thought that she adored him too. Apparently not. In that moment, he hated her.
He thought about his children, how much he loved them. He wanted so desperately to fight for custody of his children. His heart ached for his children. He wanted to be with them more than anything. He sat there in a daze. Thinking of all these things and more. The stress of his job, the rent payments. He thought of all the failures in his life up until that point. He began to feel the overwhelming urge to numb out that pain. He just wanted to escape one more time in to happiness. He just wanted one more high, then he would get serious about this sobriety thing. He would get his life figured out.
"Knock, knock, knock." He jumped as one of his roommates opened the door to ask if he wanted dinner. He politely declined. He shut the door and slumped back onto his bed. It was neatly made, and his bedroom spotless as could be. He slowly and cautiously pulled a shoebox from under his bed. He knew he would have just one last chance. If his roommates knew, he would surely be kicked out. He lifted the lid, his eyes lit up with delight and fear. He just wanted to get really high, one last time. He slowly pulled the 4 patches out. He tore them open and began placing them on his body. He had used much more than that in the past, so 4 patches should be just right to get him the high he wanted. He leaned back and relaxed while the patches took effect. He began to feel the effects of pure euphoria. He began to feel as if he were floating on a cloud. It was then, he remembered that he had bible study.
He shut his car door, and drove down the road. He arrived at his pastors home, and was welcomed inside. The pastor asked him several times if he was okay, he wondered if he could tell he was high. He continued to assure the pastor that he was alright. He moved to the couch and sat on the end. No need to be in between anybody. He sat there as the pastor prayed, and he waited for the study to begin. He began to get itchy from the narcotics running through his veins. The bible study was a blur, but it was over before he knew it. As he was ready to leave, the pastor asked if he could pray over him. He agreed, not wanting to look suspicious. He had a hard time focusing on the words the pastor spoke.
"Lord Jesus, we pray that you protect our brother Josh, no matter what he is going through. We pray that you would be with him and walk with him through this difficult time. We pray for protection and peace, In your name, Amen." He thanked him for the prayer and assured him again that he was alright. He was tired and needed to get home. So away he went.
He arrived home, and began to stumble a little as he walked in the front door and up to his bedroom. He ripped off his jacket and tossed it aside, then fell onto the bed. He laid there and drifted in and out of consciousness. He was half thinking, half dreaming. Pretty soon, he drifted off, with no return.
The next day, his roommate knocked on his door. There was no answer. He hollered inside
"Josh! Breakfast!" There was no answer, he poked his head in to find him laying there. Gone away. He tried to wake him, and frantically dialed 911. In all the commotion, the ambulance, police, and fire fighters came. There was nothing they could do. He had been gone too long. They carried him away, and sent officers to inform his family.

The knock on the door was unlike she had ever heard before. She got up, pain stricken through her body. She headed for the door, she could see the police standing on the other side, and wondered what happened. The door creaked as she pulled it open slowly. The officers faces were bland and ghostly. Their eyes filled with sadness, she knew something was coming. Something terrible.
"Ma'am, are you Josh's mother?" The tall skinny one asked.
"Yes, that is me." She replied as fear began to rise up in her.
"We regret to inform yo-"
"No. No. No." She faintly interrupted as fear and tears welled up inside her. She began to weep uncontrollably as the officer continued.
"We regret to inform you that your son was found dead this morning and 10:02 am. It appears he overdosed. Is there anyone we can contact for you?"
She just stood there. Weeping uncontrollably, in shock that this was happening. It couldn't be happening. It felt as though someone had cinched a large strap around her and were squeezing it. Tighter, and tighter. She couldn't breathe, her knees buckled down under her. She fell to the ground and was stricken with pain in her heart and her lungs. The pain of losing her son. It was unbearable. She couldn't take it. She didn't even believe these men.
"No, you have the wrong Josh. Not my baby, not my boy!" This can't be she thought. This just cant be.
From the other room, her husband heard the commotion, and came in. She looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks, and barely squeaked out the words "Josh. Is. Dead."