Clean

Ever since 2892, not many people remained clean. By 2993, being clean was almost unheard of. It was impossible. The entire world had become run down. The elite were those on top of the drug chain and nobody else. Even the President had become nothing more than a puppet pulled by too many strings.
The rest of the world population was left in ruins. Life expectancy had long ago dipped below forty. Drugs became the only thing worth living for, so as you might imagine, life was very dismal indeed.
I broke away from my drug gang when I was fifteen. It was awful in those days as I attempted to get the drugs out of my system. Looking back, I'm not too sure how I resisted. The process of becoming clean were the worst days of my life. At every street corner every dealer reminded me I could make all the suffering go away. I came close to believing them.
It was a book that saved my life. Books were rare, and hadn't been printed in over seventy years. Most of those that remained were beyond any state of legibility. I was lucky to find the one I did. Written in the early 2000's by E.M.C., it was about a "perfect" human being exposed to the real world. Imagining what the main character would have thought of our world today turned me around. I decided I wasn't going to be a slave anymore, and I ran as far and as fast as I could. But the farther I ran the more the world caught up with me. There was no safe place. No job that would harbor me. Try as I might to escape it, the drugs only became more and more prominent around me.

Despite the difficulties, I prevailed. For the past three years I have remained clean. The longer I stay clear of drugs, the less compelled I feel to use them. It's too easy to see how they have ruined lives, and how much better I am off without them. It is not the drugs I fear now, but the gangs that distribute them. They can be just as deadly as the drugs themselves. I made a point to never go near highly claimed areas, hideouts, or any sort of disputed territory. However, doing so is not as easy as it seems. There is almost nowhere that does not meet at least one of those descriptions. Often I have no other choice than to pass by as quickly as possible. I was on one such a trip when a group of Addictors surrounded me. I had no home- as usual- and was carrying everything on my back to the abandoned doorway that I had been sleeping in the past few nights. The quickest way to get there was through very active druggie territory. Unwilling to be in the dark for a minute more than necessary, I took the risk. I was halfway to my destination when I saw the silhouettes of the group. They saw me as well.

"Get him," One ordered. The silence of the night magnified his words so that I could hear him, and I bolted. I didn't get very far. They were strong, beefed up by steroids and decent food, while I was malnourished, and carrying everything that I owned. They swarmed me. One tore by bag from my back while others grabbed my arms and held me fast. I tried to twist away, and they laughed.
"There's nothing in his bag, Ex!" cried the one that had grabbed it. I assumed by that he meant that there were no drugs, or anything else of real value.

"What are you on, boy?" the one called Ex asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"Hear that?" Ex laughed, "He ain't on nothin'!" The rest of the men laughed along with him. "Hold out his arm" Ex ordered. I struggled against them to no avail. They stretched out my arm, and rolled up my sleeve. Ex pulled out an already loaded needle.

"Please don't," I begged. More laughter was my only response. This was why these groups were called Addictors. It was their job to get as many people hooked on a certain drug as possible, and only the first dose was free. Ex was just about to jab the needle into my vein when a slurred voice broke out, and stopped him.

"You guys got somethin' good?" asked a pretty, young girl as she stumbled toward us. Every head turned her way. It was clear that she was drunk.

"Yeah," smiled one of the guys, "Yeah, come here, and we'll give you some."

She staggered closer until she was practically in the middle of us all. She was either really drunk, really stupid, or past caring. It came as a surprise to all of us when she knocked the needle out of Ex's hand with reflexes no drunk person could ever have.

"Run!" She yelled. I didn't need to be told. I had already taken advantage of the moment, prying myself from their grasp and dashing down the road. She paused long enough to knee Ex in the groin before following after me. The gang ran after us. Our head start gave us the upper hand and we were able to get to a main road.

"In here!" the girl cried, rushing through the door of a club. We melted into the crowd three seconds before our pursuers came in after us. She turned her back to me, and began dancing, almost to the point where she was on top of me.

"Don't bolt," she warned, "It'll give us away. Just dance." I did as she said. True to her word, the gang looked right past us, and began immediately searching for the back exits. We stayed inside the throng of dancers. Invisible in plain sight. I don't know how long we stayed there. Maybe an hour or so before my rescuer deemed it safe to go out again. Once we were out of the noise, I finally got a chance to speak.

"Thank you," I said, "For helping me back there."

"Not a problem," She said, "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but this little escapade has made me late, and I must be going."

"Can I at least know your name?"

"It's Lily. And you are?"

"Zack."

"Right. Well Zack, I really do have to go. Perhaps you should go back to your own posse, before you run into any more Addictors."

"I don't have a posse. Or a gang," I said stuffing my hands into my leather jacket. I realized that it was now the only thing I owned. "I'm clean."

She stopped in mid-stride and looked me over.

"Nobody is clean."

"I am. For the past three years."

She looked dubious for a second more.
"Come with me," She ordered. Lily spun on her heel, and she walked deeper into the night. I struggled to follow. After about fifteen minutes we came to what I assumed was our destination. She knocked on the door. A shadow passed by the peephole and a second later the door opened. An old man looked back at us. 

"Lily! You're late! You had Abigail and I worried sick!"

"Sorry Finn. I got held up." 

Finn's eyes fell on me. 

"Who's this?" He grunted. 

"This is Zack. He needs a place to stay." 

Finn looked me over. He didn't seem to be to impressed. Seeing this, Lily quickly said,

"Don't worry. He's clean." 

Finn didn't look in any way convinced, but he stood aside. Lily  walked in and hung up her jacket. 

"Well, come in," She said, looking at me hovering in the doorway. Hesitantly, I did as she said. 

"Abigail! We have a guest!" Lily called. 

I took a look around. The room had a high ceiling, and told me it had originally been made for some sort of storage. Since, it had been outfitted with a makeshift kitchen and sitting room. There was loft along the far wall that was adorned with beds and similar room decor. Three doors lined the wall under it. A woman, who must have been Finn's wife, stood at the table over four children.

"This is Abigail. And these are Tom, Kristen, Sam, and baby Elisa," Lily introduced, "Everybody, this is Zack." 

"Pleasure," I nodded.  

"The pleasure is ours," Abigail said, returning the nod. 

"We're all clean here," Lily explained, "Completely drug free. As long as you are too, you can stay as long as you'd like."

The words came as a shock. I should have realized that somewhere, there must be someone else who was clean too. But it never crossed my mind there would be someone else like me, let alone a whole family of them. I would have loved nothing more than to become apart of it.

"I would be honored."