Ann 2
Alain
JennYAlready? It's Only Been Three Years...PART ONE
October 30th 2006 16:25
Don't Panic...Just Something a Little Different for Today and Tomorrow....
(The following is the result of an overactive imagination of a rabid Alice in Chains fan. While much of this is based on interviews and an actual performance of AIC, on MTv Unplugged in 1996, it is written as a fictional account of that event.)
The pounding on the front door woke him up out of his drug-induced haze. Layne couldn't open his eyes for fear that the sunlight streaming through the window would blind him. His arm hurt like hell...he couldn't remember why but it hurt to even move it.
"Fuckin' GO AWAY!" he screamed and buried his head under a pillow. He had almost managed to go back to sleep when the door threatened to come off the hinges with the next series of poundings it took.
"Goddamn it, KNOCK IT OFF!" As he started to get out of bed, he looked down and noticed blood all over the sheets.
"What the fuck?!" Layne asked the sheet out loud, half expecting an answer. God knew there wasn’t anyone else to ask.
Between the blood, the sunlight and the confusion of the pounding still going on, he felt disoriented, sick and highly pissed off.
Blood had coagulated on the sheets from the needle he had put in his vein the night before. It was an easier way to keep his veins from collapsing so he could shoot up more than once a night. He would shoot up and then tape the needle still lodged into his arm in place. That way, he only had to get the needle in once, which was taking longer and longer to happen now. The open vein made the road to perpetually fucked up much easier and these days, he was all about easier when it came to existing.
Getting high didn't really do it for him anymore...but he had no choice. He had to keep doing it; there was nothing worse than drug pain. Whatever had to be done, was in order to get his drugs. The heroin and cocaine voodoo seeped through his veins several times every day.
Whoever was knocking his door down wouldn't give up. Whoever it was would get their ass kicked...it he could make it to the door.
“Why is anyone even fuckin’ here anyways?" he thought. He hadn't had company since the week before, when his dad had come by for drugs and money. Easing back onto the dirty blood stained sheets, “Who gives a shit?" he asked out loud.
Finally, the door came open and he looked up in time to see Jerry come through the door. Jerry stood there for a minute. It always took Jerry by surprise but he didn't know why it did anymore. Jerry mentally calculated the number of days since he had last seen his best friend. Layne had been holed up in his apartment for 7 days on a binge.
There was trash everywhere. Pizza boxes with a slice or two removed littered the kitchen, hallway and living room. Soup cans sat on top of the stove, half opened. Jerry crossed the room kicking pop cans and beer bottles aside to make a path. As he had many times, Jerry shut off the burner that had been left on again. He wondered how many days the stove had been left on this time. Jerry’s vision blurred for a second. He shook it off and shook his head. He knew better than to even care at this point. It was too late.
"God, man, you stink. C'mon..." Jerry's voice trailed off as he entered the bedroom door and went straight into the master bathroom on the left side of the room and turned on the water. As Jerry came back into the bedroom, all Layne heard was, “…shower. We gotta get shit done, man.”
“Fuck off, man. Really. Get the fuck out…” Layne's voice muffled by the pillow he had just pulled over his face to avoid the sunlight streaming into the room now that Jerry had opened all the curtains. “Shut the curtains…that shit is bad for you, I don’t wanna get cancer.” He laughed hysterically at his joke while Jerry was trying to pull the blankets off of him.
“Come on, man! MTV! TODAY! UN-FUCKIN-PLUGGED!” Jerry screamed at him. Jerry jumped on top of Layne in the bed and bounced like a little kid. “C’mon, man.” He begged Layne. “Just today.”
Layne smiled, his teeth ragged and half eaten away by heroin…”Fuckin’ A!”
Jerry helped Layne to the bathroom. Jerry’s arm was wrapped around Layne’s back and Jerry could feel every bone in Layne’s emaciated back. Layne didn’t like to eat much when he was on a binge. It took too much of the drug to get him off then.
Jerry wondered how much weight Layne had lost in the week since he’d seen him. He didn’t ask. He was long past asking. Jerry cared. He had always cared. More than he should have but he knew better than to let Layne in on it, Jerry thought to himself as they stripped Layne's filthy clothes off to get in the shower.
Layne hated that people adored him, loved him, cared for him. Even the fans. Layne called them all dumb asses. Layne would spit into the audience and watch fans try to catch it. He had no respect for anyone that had respect for anything he did. Self-loathing was a heavy foundation of Layne’s use and Jerry knew that Layne would be gone soon. There was nothing that could be done now.
Layne was already shitting himself without control. His liver was gone and there was no way he would ever be able to get new one. Not with his using. Not without serious detox and rehab. Layne had no interest in it anymore. He had given up on beating the addiction a long time ago. There just wasn't a way out...Layne was dying. He knew it and so did everyone around him.
As Jerry got Layne into the shower and leaned him up against the wall long enough to lather a washrag for him, Jerry felt like puking. He always did when things got this bad for Layne. It was such a damn waste, Jerry thought to himself. But he did what he always did, instead of caving to the desire to run away from Layne's problems, Jerry cracked a joke about a drug-loving, pedophilic Republican senator. While Layne was distracted from laughing, Jerry very carefully removed the needle dangling from Layne’s arm and washed away the caked on blood the way a mother would take care of her child.
To be continued...
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Comment by tinkster
good, but it's a hell of a compliment. You put me right there, and it's just too bad that it had to be this
way for both of them. Jerry simple loved Layne with all his heart, and unconditionally. I really believe
that. That is why the writing of the songs are so romantic, tragic, passionate, dark but absolutely real.
Jerry writes most of the songs for AIC, and he is not the one with the drug problem. You can see that
Layne Staley was one of the main focuses of Jerry Cantrell, and still is to this day I believe.
Comment by The Voices in my Head
The Voices in my Head
Thank you, not everyone feels as postive about this piece as I do...but its nice to hear from someone who does.
I submitted this to the AIC official website. They suggested placing it on the forum board and in the letters to the editor section of their site. It must ring true somewhere along the way.
Thanks,
Voices~
Comment by The Voices in my Head
The Voices in my Head
Apparently the website moderator was blowing smoke because after I posted it, it was deleted because that type fo post was not appropriate there. If not there...at the official AIC website, then where??? Censorship bites ass. I am now waiting for someone to complain and this one be removed as well.
Thanks,
Voices~
Comment by tinkster
I think he would like it. Hey I know you are not the biggest Nirvana fan, but can I throw some lyrics
at you and give you a story about it? and no it's not Pennyroyal Tea
Comment by The Voices in my Head
The Voices in my Head
The moderators are the ones who make the decisions, AIC has nothing to do with it.
I was thinking about sending the links to Jerry's website if it is still active.
Throw 'em...
Come back,
Voices~
Comment by tinkster
The were both thought to have died on April 5th, Kurt (1994), Layne (2002). MTV unplugged was
both of their last TV performance. Kurt was also addicted to heroin. He shot him with a gun, Layne
shot himself with a needle, and the obvious.....they both played very important roles in bringing the
Seattle grunge scene to the world. Layne's "Nutshell" sums him up.
"We chase misprinted lies, We face the path of time
And yet I fight, and yet I fight this battle all alone
No one to cry to, no place to call home
My gift of self is raped, My privacy is raked
And yet I find, yet I find repeating in my head
If I can't be my own, I'd feel better dead." - performed on Unplugged
Kurt's "All Apologies"
"What else should I be, all apologies
What else should I say, everyone is gay
What else should I write, I don't have the right
In the sun, In the sun I feel as one
I'm married, Buried
I wish I was like you, easily amused
Find my nest of salt, everything's my fault
I'll take all the blame, aqua seafoam shame
Sunburn with freezerburn
Choking on the ashes of her enemy
All in all is all we are" - performed on Unplugged
Comment by The Voices in my Head
The Voices in my Head
Interesting...Very interesting...
I know it seems odd that I would love Layne and not Kurt...there is a quality to Kurt's voice that I don't like. The pitch or something. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate his contribution to the music world, which was massive.
Come back,
Voices~