Snow whirled around his face as he pulled his hood up. The cold air bit into him making the wind feel painful as it hit his body. Despite the cold, all he could think of was getting his hands on more heroin. His next fix was all he cared about.

As he rushed down the street, his mind frantically thought of all the people he could call. He had $500 in his back pocket and all he could think of was how many bags he could get with it.

Finally, he reached Sal, his dealer.

“Man, can you help me out? I’ve got the money.”

“I’ll meet you in 10.”

In minutes, Holden was broke, but his pockets were full of bags. Eagerly, he ducked into an abandoned building and he began cooking. He dipped his syringe in the spoon and filled it. Tying a piece of rubber tubing around his arm, he barely winced at the pain of trying to find a vein that wasn’t collapsed. After several failed attempts, he located a usable vein. Instantly, he soared above the clouds not feeling anything at all as he fell back onto the bare wooden floor. Filth surrounded him. The odor of rotting garbage and human waste filled the air. Holden didn’t smell it at all. Rats ran rampant through the building chewing on garbage. He didn’t notice them. He simply laid there as he enjoyed his high.

Less than an hour later, he was up and cooking again. His phone buzzed several times, but he didn’t bother to check it. All he cared about was shooting up until he was out.

For the next thirty six hours, Holden stayed huddled up inside the ramshackle building cooking and shooting up. The icy cold air penetrated his body through his thick coat. His fingertips were red and throbbing from the cold. The temperature plummeted to a frigid 10 below. The building’s roof was partially collapsed and several inches of snow covered parts of the floor inside. The wind howled, but Holden scarcely acknowledged it. He was in his own world oblivious to anything but the pleasure of getting high.

As his supply ran out, Holden began to feel the pain of his frostbitten fingertips. His feet were so cold he could barely feel them.

His attention was drawn to the sound of footsteps coming up the winding staircase.

“Hey! Anybody up here?” A female voice reverberated through the building.

“Yeah, who’s there?”

A petite girl about nineteen with long dark hair appeared at the top of the stairs. Her cheeks were bright pink from the cold. She huddled inside a threadbare light blue jacket. Her jeans were skintight and her skin was marred with scars.

“I’m Heather. Who are you? I haven’t seen you around here.”

“Holden.”

She walked over to him stepping over the pile of dried feces in the center of the room.

“God, it smells in here. How can you stand it?” Heather wrinkled her nose.

Holden shrugged.

“You got anything on you?” Heather stomped the snow off of her boots.

“Used it all. I’m out.” Holden winced feeling the pain of his feet and hands. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone.

“What day is it?” He mumbled his head foggy.

“I think it’s Wednesday.” Heather laughed falling onto the floor next to him.

“Shit! There’s no way.” He flipped his phone open. He had over fifty missed calls from Deanna, his live in girlfriend.

Frantically, he tried dialing her number, but his phone went dead.

“Do you have a phone I could use?” Holden asked Heather.

She shook her head.

“I lost mine.” Heather sagged against the wall as she pulled out a set of works and a small square of plastic.

“What the hell is that?” Holden’s eyes widened as his hands began to shake. The pain of frostbite began to hit him hard. He was starting to go into withdrawal. His mind was reeling wondering why Deanna had called him so many times. She knew what he’d gone out to do.

“Fentanyl patch. Haven’t you seen one before?”

Holden shook his head.

“Is that as good as heroin?”

Heather gave him a deadpan look.

“No comparison. You want a hit? I have another patch if you wanna try.”

He felt himself getting sick. The withdrawal was starting to hit him hard. Still, he needed to get home to Deanna. But the pain from the frostbite was excruciating. He needed something to ease the pain.

He watched as she dissolved the patch and drew the liquid up into the syringe. Before she shot it, she handed him her other patch.

“Give it a try. You’ll never be the same.”

Holden admired how she plunged the needle in and pushed the liquid into her vein. Her eyes glazed over immediately as she fell back against the wall.

Holden quickly melted the patch as she did and shot it up. Instantly, he felt a high he hadn’t felt in years.

When Holden woke up, the sun was shining through the holes in the roof. Heather was gone and he was lying there alone. Scrambling to his feet, he rushed from the building. He raced home as fast as he could despite the pain in his feet.

As he burst through the door, he found the apartment strangely quiet. His stomach curled as he walked into the baby’s room. Maggie’s crib was empty.

“Deanna! Baby, I’m so sorry. I passed out. It wasn’t my fault.”

He threw open the door to the bedroom. Deanna was lying on the bed her eyes wide open looking up at the ceiling.

“Deanna, where’s Maggie?” Holden winced every step was so painful. His heart thudded as he realized Maggie wasn’t anywhere to be found.

He straddled Deanna and looked down into her face.

“Deanna! Where is Maggie?” He screamed slapping her face lightly.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t seem to notice he was even there. Her face was pale and her eyes were swollen.

“Deanna, it’s me. What’s wrong?”

Finally, her eyes came into focus. She stared directly into his eyes.

“You…fucking….piece of shit! Where the hell have you been?” She screamed.

“Maggie! Where’s Maggie?”

“I…hate…you. I called and I called for you…where were you?” She screamed as she clawed at his face with her long nails.

“Stop it! Where’s Maggie?” He began to cry.

“My baby, my baby! Oh God, my baby! I called you, Holden! I called you!” She leaned up screaming, tears streaming down her face.

“What happened to her?” Horrified, Holden climbed off of her shaking.

“She wasn’t breathing. I went to her….she hadn’t cried in hours. She…the doctors…said it was….crib….death.” Her words hung in the air as Holden fell onto the mattress sobs caught in his throat.

His darling baby girl. Precious Maggie Belle.

Gone.

And he’d missed it.

He hadn’t seen her in over a week. He’d been gone.

Getting high.

His heart throbbed in agony. He reached out to Deanna.

“I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry. I didn’t know.”

She whirled to face him.

“Of course you didn’t! You were high. You’re always high. You fucking junkie. Get the hell out of my house! Leave!” She jumped up and began slapping him.

“When’s the funeral?” He choked.

“You missed that too you fucking asshole! It was yesterday! She’s gone. Our baby is gone.” Deanna collapsed onto the floor crying.

“My God, my God. I’m so sorry. What have I….oh God!” He raced to the bathroom to vomit.

Deanna followed him into the bathroom. She watched as he retched then turned to face her with vomit stuck to his chin.

“Get out. I want you gone today.”

“No, baby. I’m so sorry. I know I can’t say that enough. I’ll get sober. I’ll go to treatment this time. For Maggie.” His heart felt as though it would burst. The pain exploded through his body from grief and withdrawal.

“No. I don’t care anymore, Holden. You know what? I thought you were dead. I called and called for you. Then I decided I hoped you were dead so I could be spared the pain of looking at you ever again. I fucking hate you.”

Words couldn’t form in his mouth. He had nothing to say. He knew Deanna was finished with him.

And he couldn’t blame her.

His precious baby girl was gone. She had been so beautiful and innocent.

“LEAVE!” Deanna screamed.

Shaking, Holden grabbed a bag and tossed some clothes inside it. He stumbled out of the room stopping to look inside Maggie’s room one more time. Her room was as it had been. He reached into the crib to take her pink fuzzy blanket and press it to his face. He smelled her sweet baby scent and stuffed it into his bag. Her sweet face burned into his memory.

“I’m so sorry, my princess. Daddy loves you.” He choked.

That was the day he got sober.

For good.