The Boy Who Couldn't Sleep and Never Had To by DC Pierson Page B

week they’re scoring drugs from you. THEY GROW UP SO FAST!” He punches the wall.
    Ow,” he says.
    My brother’s room is a refrigerator compared to my room. My room’s over the garage and insanely warm even with the air full blast. My brother also keeps his room surprisingly clean, for someone with so many personality problems.
    â€œThis is NOT where I keep my stash. So if you ever go looking for my stash, don’t look here, because this is NOT where it is.” He goes to where he keeps his stash: third drawer down underneath a Phoenix Suns Western Conference Champions blanket we got for Christmas the year the Suns almost beat the Bulls. I was a very heartbroken six-year-old after they lost and more or less quit liking sports. Same thing happened when it turned out Spider-Man’s Peter Parker was actually a clone and had to go into exile: I was hurt and abandoned comics. I get burned and swear off whole parts of my life. I miss comics more.
    He reaches down past the blanket and pulls out a Ziploc bag containing two big pills. He says: “Roofies.”
    I don’t respond, but I try to make my face say, “Jesus, I know you are a dissolute behavior problem, but come on, we used to take baths together, and now you’re in possession of the date-rape drug.”
    â€œFuck you! I don’t use them. I’m not a fucking rapist.”
    I make a point not to change my expression.
    â€œSome dude paid me for something else with a bunch of stuff, and this was some of the stuff! Anyways, you asked! You think I need roofies? YOU need roofies. Date rapist!” He throws the baggie at me. I don’t catch it and it hits the floor.
    â€œThink of it this way: by you buying them, nobody who will actually use them will buy them. I mean, nobody who will actually use them for date rape.”
    The disgusting thing is that from what little I know about them, they are actually perfect for what we’re trying to do.
    â€œHow much do you want?” I say.
    â€œTake them,” my brother says. “Merry Christmas.”
    I bend down and pick the baggie up off the floor. As we’re leavinghis room, we hear Eric shout from down the hall: “Oh, for PETE’S sake.”
    My brother looks over and sees Eric sitting on the floor of my room cross-legged, playing Xbox.
    â€œIf you’re gonna rape your friends, you should get female friends,” my brother says. “You’re a real sick fuck.”
    â€œIt’s called … roprophinol.” I stopped by the computer in my dad’s office to go online and look up the actual scientific name before pitching it to Eric. I’m probably still pronouncing it wrong.
    â€œThe date-rape drug.”
    â€œWell…”
    â€œThat’s worse even than the baseball bat!” Eric goes to throw the controller in anger, then thinks better of it and sets it on the carpet in front of him.
    â€œNo it’s not! If you think about it, it’s actually pretty perfect. No human being stays awake through this.”
    â€œRight. It’s the date-rape drug.”
    â€œIt wasn’t DEVELOPED for that, it just so happens that that’s what some people … some really bad people … use it for. We could use it for good, here!”
    â€œWhat good? I keep forgetting what exactly is supposed to be good about this. Either I fall asleep, and my life is abridged in this one little place, and it’s true, yes, I can be unconscious, or I just suffer through it awake, or God knows what else, really, since my brain chemistry is undoubtedly … different.”
    I shut my bedroom door and come inside and sit down. “I guess all that’s, like, fair. Completely. But all this is about is testing the limits of your … thing. Finding out what there is to find out about it without us being, like, scientists. I mean, we could go to scientists, but, like we’ve talked about…”
    I think both