It’s funny how bothersome nights can end up being.
It was a seemingly average Thursday night when my brother, quite randomly, approached me with several pills; telling me he’d pass them off to me for five dollars. I considered it for a moment then figured that five dollars wasn’t such an incredible loss so I obliged.
The pills hit me slowly. They crept up from my feet; spreading over my body like ice-cold fingers. I began to nod my head lower and lower. My vision fogged just slighty and a dopey looking grin (I’m positive that it must have been upon recalling the position my face had been in) spread over my complexion from ear to ear. The movie I had been watching suddenly became more entertaining. My brother returned then and offered me a hit of his marijuana. He handed me the bong and his lighter so I, as any courteous person would do, took the hit.
Everything was quite hazy after that.
We decided to go on a late night walk with no definitive destination and purpose unknown. Perhaps I was feeling anxious and just wanted some fresh air.
The night was cool and calm. The heat which had scorched our neighbourhood before had simmered down to a musky mist; a gentle breeze tingled across my sweaty skin. We turned down a street lined with tall concrete buildings. They were in a depressing state, paint peeling, driveways cracking, bricks moulding … I stared up at them sadly.
“Okay, so he’ll be here soon.”
“Who?” I asked.
“…the guy … Sam … for weed?”
“Oh.” So that’s why we went on a walk.
I panned the scene with bleary eyes, specifically focused on a bright red door; an anomaly within so much grey. I wondered if the family living inside this incongruity were any different from the typical families living inside all the other houses. Did they paint it themselves? Was it always that way?
What stupid and senseless questions I’m asking.
Eventually the “guy” my brother spoke of showed up in a blazing red car – music blared from its slightly cracked windows. It was like a beacon on the grey street – similar to the red door. What is it with the colour red tonight? I wrinkled my nose.
“So yeah, get in?”
“Wha-” I didn’t want to get in the car.
I found myself in the back of the obnoxiously loud vehicle which displeased me quite a lot. We rocked down the street, the car swerved ever so often. I clung tight to the cloth seats.
What surprised – or annoyed – me the most was not the car, the noise, or anything of that sort, it was the two in the front seats which rustled my feathers. They spoke in debauched English, firmly believing that their neanderthalic dialect made them more intimidating to the average man. I furrowed my brow as the car veered randomly. The benzos I’d taken normally make me irritable and this time was no exception.
I turned to my brother, “Can we get the fuck out of here?” I was tired and longed to go home and retire for the night.
Soon we stopped and the transaction was made. My brother got his marijuana. He refused to leave until he had a hit from the bong sitting the car – who it belonged to I did not know nor did I ask. Finally smoke poured from his nostrils and he gave me a nod whilst coughing erratically.
I have a sigh of relief, it was time to leave.
“You know we ain’t drivin’ you back, aiigt?” Damn. I flicked my head to the left to glare at my brother.
We exited the vehicle grudgingly, preparing for the tedious walk home.
I was absolutely furious at this point and refused to grace my brother with the slightest word or glance. My blood boiled, the last thing I wanted to do at this moment was walk through dirty streets filled with dirty people.
I rolled my eyes, “What?”
“Ha!” My brother ran up to decaying apartment entrance with eagerness. He scuffled around a bit before tearing some sort of paper substance from the door. He was chuckling arrogantly.
My brother walked up to me; smug. I raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”
“I have found-” he paused dramatically and unrolled the piece of paper in his hands, “-the Marauder’s Map!”
I looked down … indeed, he was right, there it was.
My embarrassing love of Harry Potter took over me then and a smile broke out over my face. I slurred and laughed, “What the fuck!”
“On someone’s door, weird right?” He laughed too.
Due to being stoned and on drugs, the discovery of the map was most likely much more exaggerated than it should have been but, for whatever reason, the finding brightened the entire walk home. We spent it chatting about how amusing it would be if the map did in fact reveal the footprint locations of people we knew and how we would use that to our advantage.
After the walk, we got home and I’m pretty such my brother taped up the map onto a wall in his bedroom.
I went to bed as soon as I could; exhausted from the long walk.
However, finding the map was totally worth it. It looks fuckin’ awesome.