Nothing happened after the incident where Moses caught with drugs and dancers. No one cares, at this point, it is evident to everyone that Moses is an addict, but she can get things done so who cares, at this moment, there is a stalemate on what to get done while she’s lucid and sober, for the short time that is. Some clown from lower ranks suggested we stage an intervention with Moses. Someone must have squealed to Moses that that was a whisper about her. We found the clown in a shallow grave three days after she came to us begging for us to stage an intervention. Again, we all know Moses is a mess, but let’s not go too far with trying to get her help, our lives depend on her mood.
Today, it was a little rougher dealing with Moses than usual. I wasn’t sure what her mood was doing to her, but I knew by how dilated her pupils were, she wasn’t anywhere near sober. Moses kept yelling for things she never had. It was a stretch to get things that never existed in her possession. Moses wanted a designer bag that had since been off the market before she was born. She swore that she had the bag. Someone was about to lose their lives until her dealer came through with something purer. After a long absence in the bathroom, Moses came back to us somewhat standard —still high, but her regular, high self.
No apologies for almost scalping an innocent worker, but that was the beautiful demon Moses was at times. I laid awake at night thinking the times that she has ordered a hit out on someone and it turned out to be an innocent person she turned her rage onto when she was coming down or feeling angry. Sometimes, I cry myself to sleep at her carefully crafted unpredictability. You can always spot when she’s about to lose her mind over something trivial, but the range is too broad. She can go to throwing a tantrum and slamming her door closed like a spoiled teenager. To throwing someone off a 40 story building. It’s all in the matter of what’s she’s feeling.
I hated the feeling knowing she’s not stable in any way. I was signed up for this, bound by life because she had a feeling to bust down my parent’s door. I am hoping secretly she gets help. Then again, every time she says she wants to get clean, it’s a lie. Every time she moves her mouth it’s a lie, but we have to all pretend we like her, so we don’t die. I don’t know if that’s a bad option.