Rosa licked the acid sweat from the cracked corners of her mouth and tried to block out the pain tearing at her insides while Pinkie loaded up her hit. As per usual, she was shaking too much to do it herself. 

“C’mon, Pink. For fuck sake.”

“Chill out, chica. Just lemme do this, ok?”

Rosa’s ravaged limbs shook like twigs as Pinkie nervously thunked the syringe and coaxed a tiny drop through the blunted tip.

“Don’t fuckin’ waste it! Goddamnit, Pink.”

“I’m not fucking wasting it. I’m getting the air bubbles out. Damn. This is why I do this instead of you, ok?”

“Well, c’mon already. I’m fuckin’ dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“I am dying.”

Pinkie wrapped his fingers around Rosa’s bruised upper arm and squeezed tight. Her collapsed veins pulsed weakly as Pinkie tried to find a new place to poke the skin. Each time there was less and less real estate on Rosa’s arm that Pinky could use that wasn’t already track marked with open lesions. He smacked her on the inside of her arm a few times and forced the dull needle in where he thought it would go in best. Each time a little part of him withered, but he knew it was better than letting her do it herself. 

“Oh, fuck yeah. Oh my god, that’s good…”

Rosa leaned back against the rusty dumpster as her eyes fell shut, smiling for the first time all day. Her skeletal grin did little to lighten the dimness that shaded her once bright features, but it gave Pinkie a moment of respite, however brief. He put the dirty rig away and lit a cigarette as he watched Rosa nod off into never-never land. As he inhaled the smoke, he tried to lose himself for a little while.

A snowstorm was approaching and Pinkie was postponing the inevitable. He needed to figure out where they were going to sleep for the night, but the shelters were already full and neither of them knew their way around town. They made their way to Rosa’s hometown at her insistence, but they didn’t have a destination in mind once they got there other than to find someone to cop from in order to keep Rosa from getting sick. The second order of business was to find somewhere safe to sleep and avoid the oncoming blizzard.

Rosa hadn’t been to her hometown since she was a kid and when they arrived at the bus station, nothing at all looked familiar to her. She said she wanted to be near her birthplace when she died.

“You’re not dying, chica. Shut the hell up with that shit already.”

“I am dying.”

“No you’re not.”

“I want to be close to the place I was born before I die.”

“You’re not dying, Rosa.”

“I am.”

Pinkie and Rosa first met in a lunch line at a Church-run homeless shelter in the dusty bible-belt-buckle of the midwest. They were only there for the food, not the required sermon that preceded their dry bologna sandwich and stale chips. They rolled their eyes at each other while their stomachs growled and quickly became best friends.

Pinkie didn’t do drugs, but something about Rosa reminded him of his younger sister who he’d lost a few years earlier to an abusive, alcoholic boyfriend. Pinkie soon took Rosa under his wing and they became the family they both needed.

Pinkie slouched forward over his empty round belly as Rosa nodded against the corroded dumpster. He watched people scurrying down the sidewalk like skittering rats, bracing themselves against the cold and lugging bags of groceries for the impending storm. One woman dropped a pack of hot dogs from her bulky bag and Pinkie smiled at her as she bent to retrieve it. She avoided eye contact and continued on her way.

Pinkie took another long drag off his cigarette and did what he usually did. He imagined a house with a perfectly manicured lawn and a toilet that flushed every time he used it. A house where he could wake up to a new day each morning and shower whenever he wanted. It had a table and chairs and a couch like everyone else and a vacuum cleaner he wouldn’t even mind using.

“Heya. Wake up! We gotta get moving.”

“Huh?”

“We gotta get moving. It’s gonna get dark in a few hours and those clouds are getting pretty scary.”

“Ay bendito…”

“C’mon. We need to find somewhere out of this weather to post up.”

Pinkie pulled Rosa up by her frail wrists and guided her limp body for a half block until she eventually stumbled forward with enough momentum to balance on her own. They walked along as the first snow began falling, first in minuscule flakes that fluttered around them, then in clumps that began cascading down like ash from the sky. It would have been a pleasant scene if they were headed somewhere safe to lay their heads, but they had no idea where they were headed, so instead it felt like a sign of impending doom.

They walked aimlessly, searching for somewhere they could hunker down and not be bothered. The streets eventually became ominously deserted, but Rosa and Pinkie couldn’t find anywhere to sleep that was secure from the elements. 

They walked to the edge of town and eventually found themselves at the bottom of a narrow street where the crumbling asphalt signaled an abrupt dead end to civilization. A few lonely houses were scattered along the remaining dirt road, none of which looked inhabitable. Everything was dusted with snow.

They examined each abandoned house, trying to determine their degree of deterioration and weighing their potential, until they came to one that looked not quite as decrepit as the others. A stripped car sat dilapidated in the brush underneath a few weary trees like a long-dead carcass picked clean by vultures. There was no sign of life anywhere. Pinkie and Rosa stood on the disappearing driveway as the snow piled up around them.

“I guess this looks pretty good for now, eh manita?”

“Yeah, I guess. Kinda feels like a mini ghost town. Kinda spooky.”

“Hey, don’t say that shit. You know I don’t like that shit.”

Rosa snuggled under Pinkie’s arm and nudged him in the gut. 

“Let’s get going. It’s goddamn cold!”

“I hope no one else is squatting here. This looks kind of perfect.”

They stalked around the perimeter of the house looking for any broken windows or drafts that might let in too much wind and snow. Pinkie tried the locks on the windows to try and find a way in while Rosa walked up to the back door and opened it right up. 

“Score! Check it out, Pink!”

They cautiously peeked inside and peered around. It was dark and musty, but otherwise seemed like a good place to wait out a snowstorm. As they entered, the house creaked and moaned like old houses do and Rosa grinned devilishly. 

“We’re heeeeere…”

“Knock it off, Rosa. You know I don’t like that shit.”

“C’mon, Pink. It feels kind of nice in here, doesn’t it? Kind of welcoming. Not like the usual dumps. And I feel really good. Like really good.”

“That’s because you’re still high.”

“Yeah, well… Let’s just enjoy it. It feels good here.”

“It’s definitely not as shitty as some of the other places we’ve stayed.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty damn decent. Hey, check it out. There’s a fireplace over there. How awesome is that?”

“Nice. We can warm ourselves by the weird empty fireplace with an invisible fire and roast marshmallows we don’t have.”

“Shut up. Look out there. There’s a big ass pile of wood right by that tree. Go get us some wood so we can make a fire!”

“Rosa, this chimney’s probably clogged. We’ll burn the place down.”

“Quit being a jackass and let’s give it a shot. How awesome would it be if we could get a fire going?”

“If you’re feeling so good, why don’t you help me? Before that shit wears off and you get cranky again. If I get a fire going and the smoke starts backing up, I’m putting that shit out or we’ll choke to death in here.”

“Who’s being cranky now, pendejo?”

They both looked at each other in silence and then busted out laughing.

“Ok, you’re right, it’s worth a shot. C’mon, that snow is getting crazy out there.”

They brought in a few armfuls of firewood and piled it on the pockmarked hardwood floor in front of the fireplace. Pinkie kindled a small pile of sticks and they watched the smoke travel up and out of the chimney just like it should. Pinkie threw on a few larger pieces and before long they were basking in front of a raging fire. 

“When have we ever had a fireplace, Pink? This is awesome. I feel awesome.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”

Behind his smile, Pinkie was dreading the thought of breaking the news to Rosa that he only had one more hit in his jacket pocket left for her. If the snow didn’t let up, she’d be stuck without another fix for a while. They were also down to their last few dollars because the weather made it impossible to panhandle.

He shrugged to himself and tried not to think about it. Rosa was happy and feeling good for now. She’d be sick again soon enough. They both dozed off before they knew it, coaxed into a comfortable sleep by the warming fire.

Pinkie woke abruptly to something scrambling around in another room. There were only a few glowing embers left in the fireplace and Rosa was gone. He could hear drawers and cabinets being thrown open and then heard Rosa yell out. 

“Pinkie! You won’t believe this! Come look!”

“What the…? What the hell, Rosa?”

“Come check this out.”

“Check what out?”

“Just come see.”

Pinkie stumbled into the nearby kitchen scratching his eyes and grumbling under his breath and found Rosa standing next to a mold-covered refrigerator in front of a fully stocked cupboard. It was filled with cans of beans, jars of pickles and preserves, bags of dried fruit, and boxes of rice and flour. He stood there for a moment wondering if he was dreaming as his tummy growled at the sight. Rosa was standing and scratching at her arm. He knew she was starting to get the itch, but he wanted to wait as long as he could before loading up another fix.

“What the…?”

“We hit the jackpot! Someone must’ve been squatting here before us.”

“No way. That’s no squatter’s stuff. Someone was living here.”

Pinkie looked around at the stain-streaked sink and dirty countertops. There was no sign that anyone had been in the house for a very long time.

“Well, whatever. They’re not here anymore. It’s ours now.”

“I dunno. Seems kinda weird.”

Rosa grabbed a bag of dried apples off the shelf and tore into it.

“Careful, Rosa. You don’t know how long that’s been there.”

“Tastes fine to me.”

Rosa thrust a handful at Pinkie and he devoured it like a beast.

“Goddamn, that’s good. What else is in there?”

They rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out various jars and boxes until they decided on something to cobble together for dinner. Pinkie threw the rest of the wood into the fireplace and stoked the fire while Rosa found a not-too-dirty pot they could use to melt some snow in and they cooked up the best meal they’d had since they could remember. To most people it probably wasn’t much, but for them it was a bounty.

Once they were finished, Rosa gave Pinkie a dreamy look.

“Why don’t you fix me up for desert?”

Pinkie looked down at the grains in the hardwood floor in silence for a moment.

“Rosa, uh, I gotta tell you… I’ve only got about one more hit left and that’s it.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

“We didn’t have that much to begin with, remember? I gave the guy my last bit of cash except the five bucks we were keeping for food. Remember? We were gonna figure out the rest tomorrow.”

“Well it’s fucking snowing, Pinkie. What the fuck? We’re stuck in this fucking house with only one fix left? Seriously, what the fuck?”

“Look, Rosa. I can’t do anything about it right now. What do you want me to do?”

“Ok. Alright. Can you maybe at least split it into two to make it last?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Ok, cool, maybe that’ll work to get us through.”

“Not us, Rosa. You. You’re the one who needs this shit. Not me.”

Rosa stared blankly at Pinkie.

“Don’t yell at me ok, Rosa? You know I’m doing the best I can.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. You know how I get.”

“Yeah, I do know how you get…”

Pinkie set about divvying up the last hit into two portions and fixing it up for Rosa. He knew the needle they were using was getting far too dull, but it was the only syringe they had. Rosa’s arms were already abscessing, but he didn’t know what else to do. When he pushed the blunted tip into her collapsed vein yet again, she winced harder than normal and it sent a twinge up his own arm. That familiar vacant grin crept across Rosa’s face and everything was alright again for a while. Pinkie fished a cigarette stub out of his pocket and lit it with his almost empty lighter as he watched the dwindling flames in the fireplace, imagining himself floating, swimming in the smoke. 

#

Rosa woke in the middle of the night to the seesaw of Pinkie’s snoring. She couldn’t remember where she was and began to panic. She jumped up and searched around in confusion, then ran over to the window. She looked outside for something that might remind her where she was, but all she could see was a shadowy landscape obscured by a wash of grey and white that blurred out everything in sight. The snow was falling so heavily it was beginning to build up against the windowpanes in thick layers. The barely visible trees shifted in the snow like they were slouching toward the house.

Rosa’s buzz was wearing off and she could feel a cold sweat coming on. The dose Pinkie gave her wasn’t enough. The fire was down to glowing coals and Rosa rubbed her face vigorously at the thought of waking Pinkie. She knew she’d better save the last half-hit for later if she could stomach it.

Rosa gazed around with dizzy vision and began pacing from one side of the empty living room to the other. She wandered into each adjoining room, all vacant and lonely, filled with dirt and cobwebs. She went upstairs to investigate and absentmindedly ran her hand along the worn paint on the banister. Something about it seemed familiar.

She peeked into each room on the second floor and squinted her eyes, futilely flicking each light switch on and off. At the end of the upstairs hallway she saw the only piece of furniture in the entire house. It was an old, broken down night table decorated with intricately carved curlicues sitting against the wall. She opened its tiny drawer and found a handwritten note folded over and yellowed with age laying inside. She picked it up and opened it as delicately as she could and tried to decipher what she was looking at. When the words that were written on the paper came into focus, she felt herself shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

#

Pinkie startled awake to an icy scream that sent a chill through his bones. Rosa was screaming like he’d never heard before. He lunged and ran tripping up the stairs to find Rosa hunched over at the end of the hallway next to the nightstand, eyes bleary with terror. He grabbed her, but she wouldn’t stop shrieking. She was staring through him.

“Rosa! What’s going on? Rosa?”

She went limp and began weeping.

“What’s wrong? What’s the matter? Let’s go downstairs. What are you doing up here, chica?”

Rosa’s eyes were red with hysteria as she looked up at him.

“This is my house.”

“What? What’re you talking about? Did you take that other hit already?”

“No. No no no. I didn’t take the other fucking hit! This is my house. This is the house where I lived when my mom OD’d. When I was a baby.”

“Rosa, what are you talking about?”

“This is the house where my mother died. When I was a baby.”

“Rosa, what the hell are you talking about? Let’s go downstairs and talk. You need to lay down.”

Rosa collapsed onto the floor and sobbed mercilessly.

“Rosa… Rosa, please… You’re scaring me. Can we go downstairs? You need to lay down and chill.”

“No, Pinkie. You don’t understand. This is the house where my mom overdosed. I was only a baby. They took me away. But this is the house. Look at the note.”

“Rosa, you’re fucking losing it. I’ll fix you the rest of that hit. Can we just go downstairs? You’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

Rosa’s mood suddenly shifted and her face filled with anger. Her blood-red eyes were rimmed with tears and mucus began spewing from her nose as she yelled into Pinkie’s face.

“I don’t want the fucking hit! Don’t you get it? Don’t you fucking get it? My mom died in this fucking house! This is my house!”

Rosa had never lashed out at Pinkie like that and it made Pinkie feel like he wanted to puke.

“Please, Rosa. Please calm down. I don’t understand.”

Rosa got on all fours and began heaving from deep inside her bowels and shaking her head furiously. She wretched until she vomited in a spew filled with specks of blood. Pinkie held her matted hair as she crumpled onto the floor in pain. 

“C’mon, chica. Let’s go downstairs. I’ll give you that last hit.”

Rosa looked up at Pinkie like a wounded animal.

“I’m dying, Pink…”

Pinkie carried Rosa limp in his arms and wobbled down the stairs, back into the empty living room. He propped Rosa against the fireplace, then fixed up the last half-hit and injected her frail arm. It was the only thing he could think to do. He then lit his last cigarette stub as she fell calm and passed out. Outside the snow was pawing the window with its frozen fingers.

As Rosa lay comfortably unconscious, Pinkie searched around for whatever he could to revive the fire. The logs outside were too cold and wet, so he canvassed the house for whatever flammable fragments he could find. He went back upstairs and grabbed the old nightstand to splinter into kindling. He broke it into pieces and threw everything into the fireplace, blowing on the coals until the flames flared back up. He hoped it would be enough to keep them warm through the rest of the night. 

Pinkie went over to the living room window and gazed out at the muted landscape blanketed in a shroud of white. He couldn’t see beyond a few feet distant and it gave him the sensation of being suspended in a void. He felt like the entire world had turned its back to him.

Suddenly Pinkie heard the floor above him creaking like someone was pacing. He froze and strained to listen, but the sound faded. The wind outside gusted and rattled the windows. Pinkie crossed himself and went over to lay down next to Rosa near the fireplace. He kept listening for the sound upstairs again, but his body was so fatigued that he quickly fell into an uneasy sleep.

Rosa was noisily walking back and forth upstairs when Pinkie finally woke. The feeble trickle of sunlight filtered in through the morning snow-drift and he could hear her talking to herself. Then she began laughing.

“Rosa? Are you ok?”

More laughter.

“Hey, Rosa! You up there?”

He went to the foot of the stairs.

“Rosa?”

“Yeah?”

Her voice was distant. 

“Rosa, what’re you doing up there? You ok?”

Rosa bent over the upstairs railing, looking down at him with a beatific sort of smile. 

“Yeah, I’m ok. Everything is ok now.”

“Are you…? Can you come down here for a minute?”

Rosa glanced into the room behind her and nodded, then walked down the stairs with a deliberate and measured stride.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I feel great.”

“You’re just… acting kind of weird.”

Rosa chuckled. 

“I’m fine. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be ok now.”

“What’s going on, Rosa?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just getting really weirded out.”

“I told you this was my house.”

“Yeah… you said that. You also said…”

“Well it is. I lived here. I was only a baby when they took me out, but I remember now. Somehow. In the back of my brain. That’s my room up there. I think. And that room next to it I’m pretty sure is my mom’s. I don’t remember it like a picture, but like in my body. This is my house. When I was a baby.”

“That’s kind of crazy, Rosa. Are you sure?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. I remember. Somehow.”

“Well… something just feels weird, Rosa.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just… I don’t know…”

“She’s here, you know? My mom is here.”

“Stop it, Rosa!”

“I knew you’d think I’m crazy, but she’s here right now.”

“Rosa, I’m serious. Knock it off!”

“I’m serious too. I know you think I’m crazy, but she’s here, Pinkie. She never left. She knew I’d come back. She was waiting for me. That’s why we’re here. That’s why I wanted to come back. I didn’t realize it, but that’s why.”

“You’ve never talked about your mom, Rosa. I’ve never heard you say anything about her.”

Rosa stared at Pinkie with a pained look in her eyes.

“I was just a baby. They took me out of the house. Away from her. Because she was a drug addict. Just like me. She OD’d the day after they took me. I didn’t find out until I was a teenager, but… She died the day after they took me.”

“I never knew that, Rosa.”

“But I know she loved me.”

Rosa put her hand on her chest as tears streamed down her sunken cheeks. Pinkie just stood there not knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry, chica. I never knew that.”

Rosa wiped her eyes and sniffed.

“I forgive her. I’ve always forgiven her. And I understand. She was lost after they took her baby away. But she’s here now. She told me she loves me and that she’s sorry. She was waiting for me. She wrote me a note to find.”

“What’re you talking about, Rosa? What note?”

“In the nightstand. She left it for me. She said she’s sorry. She doesn’t want me to end up like her. She said she knew I’d come back.”

“Rosa, are you sure you know what you’re talking about right now?”

“What do you mean? I remember. And I saw the note with my own eyes. She wanted me to come back here, Pinkie.”

“Rosa, what note? I didn’t see any note. I didn’t see anything.”

“What do you mean you didn’t see anything?”

“I used that nightstand for the fire last night. I swear I didn’t see anything in there.”

A veil of rage came over Rosa, darkening her like the plague.

“You fucking what?”

“I’m sorry, Rosa. I didn’t know. I didn’t see any note. I swear.”

In an instant Rosa’s expression shifted to a look Pinkie didn’t quite understand.

“You know what, Pink? It’s fine. She’s here. And so am I. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m sorry, Rosa. I really am.”

“It’s ok. I’m ok. And everything’s ok now. I’m home. And I’m gonna kick this. I can’t let her down. I know I’m a mess, but I can’t go out like that. I know it’s what she wants.”

Pinkie wasn’t sure what to think. He’d never heard Rosa say she was going to quit. He stared at Rosa’s festering arms as she scratched at them and smiled distractedly. He knew she was already squirming in her skin for another hit.

“So are you gonna get this fire going again or what? It’s not snowing anymore, but we’re probably still stuck in here for a while.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I can do that, chica.”

Pinkie wasn’t sure what else to say, so he searched around in vain for something to stoke the fire. As he did, Rosa dug around in the kitchen closet. Pinkie watched her shaking uncontrollably, unconsciously picking at her arms.

Rosa brought over a jar of strawberry preserves for Pinkie to unscrew, but before he could open it, Rosa looked at him with an absent expression, then bent over to vomit on the floor. She vomited everything that was in her stomach and then vomited more. Pinkie held her hair as she shuttered between heaves and snot bubbled from her nose.

“Pinkie… I’m dying…”

“You’re not dying. Just hold on, Rosa. You’ll get through this.”

Pinkie knew that Rosa couldn’t go cold turkey. She was too far gone for her body to handle the shock without gradually weaning off. 

Rosa collapsed in a heap and began gasping for air. She then expelled another mouthful of phlegm and bile. Pinkie ran outside to grab a handful of snow to put in her mouth for hydration, but when he came back, Rosa had stopped breathing. 

Pinkie got on his knees and put his ear to her heart. She wasn’t moving. He tried compressing her chest, then wiped off her lips and blew into her mouth until he almost passed out.  

“Rosa! Don’t give up on me, Rosa! You hear me?”

He pounded on her sternum desperately with both fists. 

“Rosa! You can’t leave me! Wake up! Please, Rosa!”

He kept pushing on her chest and breathing into her mouth, but it wasn’t working. Her body had given out. She lay there motionless on the floor next to a river of bile as an eerie stillness descended over the house. 

Pinkie felt the cold seep into his veins and ice fill the pit of his stomach. He felt like he was suffocating. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark shade outside the foggy living room window cast a shadow that stretched to Rosa’s lifeless fingertips. The shadow began creeping over Rosa’s body.

Pinkie folded his hands as tears streamed down his round cheeks. 

“Please. Please don’t let her die. Not like this. Not here. Please.”

Pinkie lifted his head and noticed a light on in one of the upstairs rooms. It was Rosa’s mother’s room. Beyond the banister posts along the top of the stairs, he thought he saw the flicker of a silhouette passing across the room. He closed his eyes.

“Please. Please don’t let her die.”

Pinkie put his hand on Rosa’s chest and felt it rise. A faint murmur came out of her lips.

“Momma…?”

Pinkie bent over close.

“She’s here, Rosa. She’s here.”

            Pinkie glanced up again, but the silhouette he thought he saw was gone and the light in the room was out. But Rosa was breathing. Pinkie looked around the empty living room and felt warm again. The coals in the fireplace were almost out, but he felt warm.

Pinkie nursed Rosa with melted snow and some honey he found in the cupboard as she stared at him in a daze.

“Pinkie… are we… still home?”

“Yeah, chica. We’re still home.”

He pulled Rosa’s tangled hair away from her face and put his palm on her forehead.

“I found the note you were talking about.”

“The note? You did?”

“You had it in your pocket.”

Pinkie placed the yellowed paper in Rosa’s hand. Rosa opened it delicately. On it was written in cursive script: “When you come back, I’ll be waiting for you. Remember that every tomorrow is a new day. Love, Momma.”

“Pinkie… This is my house…”

Pinkie smiled.

“I know, chica.”

Outside the sun was beginning to break through cracks in the clouds. 

Rosa lifted her head.

“She was waiting for me to come back, Pink.”

“I know, chica.”