Clarence: A Story of Ludwick, Scag, and a Lot of Other Drugs.
I think this whole shit began when Percy Ludwick got overdosed with heroin, and died like a twat. I mean, the whole of Chard was fucking surprised, and fucking disappointed. Ludwick was a straight A student, great athlete at the soccer team, beautiful girlfriend, and was even Senior Prefect back in Bloomsberry. Plus, his father, Frederick Ludwick was one of the richest people in town; the old bastard made a lot of bucks charging people thousands of pounds for housing. There was ‘absolutely no reason’ for him to do drugs, or at least that was what everybody thought. Apparently, Percy had gone to America for summer, and came back with tons of drugs; actually tons of heroin. From what we heard, he had a lot of problems with Macy, his girlfriend with ‘fuck me’ eyes, and she was basically being a really mean bitch towards him though they were together, and apparently, he ‘loved’ her, and got into a state of depression which made him try heroin here first, and then got hooked on it during the summer break, and decided to bring back some. Don’t ask me how he passed through the DEA with what was described to us as ‘fuck tons’ of heroin. Percy told Macy about his heroin addiction, and she didn’t give him the reaction he needed or support. Also, some people are saying that old Ludwick knew of his son’s drug use but well, people don’t really say the full parts of these things, so we don’t know what is really true. Rodney from down the road says “Old Ludwick knew of it, and took Percy to get help professionally, which only got Percy pissed off more, and he decided that oh well, let me kill myself”. But my sister Sharon (Who probably knows everybody’s story) said Old Ludwick knew about it, and only got angry and shouted and shouted and got more angry and threatened to call the DEA on Percy so Percy decided, oh well, I’ll kill myself. Everyone has their own story on why and how Percy Ludwick died, hell, I bet even my Rottweiler Frankie has his own version of the story, but nobody doubted these facts – HE DIED OF HEROIN.
My name is Clarence Henry. Yes, I have a surname that sound like a first name so most of the kids call me both names because they really don’t know which is which. Also, I’m British, so you may as well as read this with a British accent. Just this year, I got into the University, and my life has not particularly been the same. Let’s start with the fact that I really did not want to go to the University. I mean, I clearly had zero plans for my future but I never had the University in that zero plan either. Mom and Dad were kind of buying into the idea till stupid uncle Jeff came from Scotland with all the trouble in the world, in the name of advice to my parents. Those ones believe my uncle Jeff is the Jesus we have now – Yeah right, as if Jesus was a twat – so when he rendered a long speech on why the university is important for my ‘life to take a step into a very positive direction’, my parents instantly had sixteen thousand pounds to pay tuition, and I had no say anymore. I would have gone into a phase of tantrums and I would have started acting like Sharon by not talking to anyone for months (Yes, she gets that way) but then I met up with Venn (who is supposed to be my best friend) and he goes “Bruv, don’t be a skunkhead. The university is where life happens, man. You’ve been in Chard your whole fucking life. Going to the University is your only chance of leaving this damn town.” And I felt he had a point. We both signed up for the same University. It was in Badely, an hour and half flight from Chard, and we expected the best off of it. Honestly, I was looking forward to everything but studying. There would be mad parties, trips, girls, more parties, and a lot of partying. Let’s face it, only really dead narcissistic arseholes go to the university to study and get an actual education. I am not dead, or narcissistic, or an arsehole.
Oh, fuck. You’re probably wondering why I started by telling you about some random guy who died off of heroine, or scag, as the users like to call it but it’s all part of the story you’ll see in the next few pages. Honestly, I have no fucking idea why dead Percy Ludwick had to travel all the way to the United States to get some scag when he was living right in the midst of it. Percy had started school at Markendy, and well, even though the stories suggest otherwise, I think the dead boy got hooked on it there not because his girlfriend was being a bitch or because of any stupid reasons the ‘conspiracy theorists’ of Chard gave but simply because there was a lot, and he had a lot of money, so he thought, oh well, I’ve been darn good all my fucking life, and it wouldn’t hurt to kill myself a bit… of course he probably didn’t know he’d kill himself for real. Plus, maybe he didn’t get any drugs from America after all. Maybe it’s his school that tried to send off stories about him getting the scag from America so it won’t make the entire school seem like a drug dump (which it really is). Sounds reasonable to me- but nowadays, I can’t as even trust my own reason or memory ever since I began to smoke pot. Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you earlier; there’s a lot of drug taking in this story of mine, and smoking pot is not even taking drugs so I guess the pot is just elementary shit right there.
OK, so, how did I start smoking weed/pot/Indian hemp/skunk/ Hashish/ Draw (Oh trust me my story is kind of like a thesaurus for drugs so learn). You must have guessed it was at a party, right? Well, fuck you. You got it wrong. Also, you thought it was in University, right? Well, fuck that also, because my first taste of skunk wasn’t in Badely, but was in Chard. I mean, I was already in university, but let me bum you by telling you that my first taste of weed was kinda during a fucking funeral. Yeah, bigger bummer- It was Percy Ludwick’s. You see, back in Bloomsberry when Percy was Senior Prefect, about six of us boys (Venn my best mate included) were called Percy’s boys. He kinda liked us and used us as his assistants for his duties. Oh, don’t feel pity for me as if I lost one of my own, I really never liked him or anything. (Notice how I noted that he died ‘like a twat’) and not because he was particularly a cunt, but I was pisssed his father had all that money. OK, that aside, Nathan Foyer (the one of the six I always suspected to be a faggot) suggested that we six should come together, wear suits and go pay homage to the dead twat. I was pissed because
1. I was having a great time at Badely, and I’d have to fly back to Chard to attend the funeral of some guy that killed himself off of heroin overdose
2. I didn’t want to attend a funeral
3. I didn’t want to attend that scaghead’s funeral
I paid nearly three hundred pounds for a suit, and flew with Venn to Chard for the funeral. When I got home, mom was all about how she is ‘very much saddened’ that ‘my dear friend passed in such an unfortunate manner’ and also added that she thinks it’s a ‘good idea that his friends from Bloomsberry (I.e us six) were doing this beautiful thing for him’. Sharon was in Bloomsberry with us and still is (since it’s like the only good school in Chard) and she knows I was never as caught up as the other five with Percy, and that I generally didn’t like him even though he liked me. Don’t get it twisted; Percy wasn’t particularly a total arsehole, but I think I was just mad that I couldn’t have all the things he had. I had kept it all to myself till the funeral when the six of us coincidentally had the same suit and tie colour as the fucking undertakers and so everyone that didn’t know of Percy’s boys got surprised when Venn went to give some kind of Eulogy because they thought ‘why is the undertaker giving a speech’. Trust Venn to be a numbskull and not clearing the air by calling us otherwise, so everyone else but the Ludwicks and some of Percy’s rich-parented mates from Bloomsberry thought we were undertakers.
Venn cried. Fucking idiot. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the big mess Venn went to make while giving his darn speech. The thing is, everyone knew Percy died of overdose, and it was very well behind everyone’s head, but then it just stayed there. Nobody said anything about it while giving their eulogy; Old Mr. Ludwick spoke all about Percy’s responsible nature, and how he respected everyone, and was a ‘great man of chivalry’ who was going to take over his real estate empire if he hadn’t died. Mr. Ludwick’s sister spoke all about what a ‘sweet young boy’ Percy had been and how the whole of Chard had lost a ‘beauty’. Lots of people said many things about Percy, many good things, and then Venn came to talk. Worst thing is that I don’t have any idea why Venn had to be the one to give the fucking speech and not Anthony (the smart one of the six), and why in God’s name we didn’t even look at the speech before he gave it. The fool started off by talking about the time in Bloomsberry, and then before we knew it, he kept mentioning scag, and scag, and how scag was a bitch, and how he wished scag had not taken his friend from him- FUCKEN HELL. We were all so fucking pissed at him and Mr. Ludwick had to get him escorted out of the funeral ground, and almost had us taken away too.
So they put Percy into the ground, covered him up, and that was when I felt it; a sadness I never imagined. Clearly, everyone else (among us six) were really traumatised that Percy had died, but I didn’t feel that way till we couldn’t see his casket anymore because it had been covered. Robert suggested we come to his place for a drink, and I would’ve said no because Robert’s dogs have always hated me since the day I brought my Rottweiler Frankie for a play date that didn’t go so well, but I felt too sad to say anything, so I went with everyone else to Robert’s place, and that was where I tried pot for the first time. It was just me, Venn, Nathan, Robert, Matt and Anthony. While we were smoking the pot, we started sharing stories nobody asked us for, most of it was about Bloomsberry and our time with dead Percy. I can’t remember who shared what because I was fucking high, but I went on and on about how I hated that Percy had all that money and I didn’t. I told them about my jealousy and anger towards rich people and all that crap I don’t want to talk about right now. After like two hours of drinking and smoking, me and Venn went home and packed up for our flight to Badely.
To be continued next week.