Sage's existence, once brimming with the vibrancy of college life and the promise of youth, now withered beneath the oppressive weight of his choices. In the sterile white of the hospital, amidst the drone of machines and the muted sympathy of strangers after the rollover, he had been introduced to his first taste of the chemical embrace. It was a painkiller, they said, a temporary relief from the anguish of shattered bones and bruised flesh. But for Sage, it was a siren's call, pulling him away from the pain of reality and into the seductive arms of oblivion.
The initial high was transcendent, like floating above a world where sorrow could not touch him. The textures of reality became blurred, pain melded with pleasure, and time lost its meaning. But this euphoria was a capricious mistress. It demanded more of him with every passing day, every fleeting high. The need grew, gnawing at him with an insatiable hunger. From pills, he descended into the murkier realms of narcotics, each more potent, more devastating than the last. It pulled him away from Prescott, setting him adrift in Seattle, then LA after his parents died.
In the dim alleyways, away from prying eyes, dealers became his new professors. They taught him the art of the needle, the ritual of the flame, the dance of smoke and powder. His veins became a canvas, telling a harrowing tale of desperation and decay. Every injection was a gamble, every high a temporary reprieve from the relentless grip of reality.
The drug use was not just a habit, it was a voracious beast. It consumed his days and nights, his dreams and hopes. The burn of the substance entering his bloodstream became his constant companion, a fiery reminder of the pact he had made with this darkness. His body, once fit and energetic, now bore the marks of his addiction - the gaunt face, the sallow skin, the trembling hands. The world around him, once so vivid, now seemed muted and distant, as if he was watching it through a veil.
The memories of ERAU, which once resonated with the laughter of friends and the promise of tomorrow, became a distant memory. In its place, the dimly lit rooms of decrepit buildings became his universe, where shadows whispered and time seemed to stand still. His relationships, once deep and meaningful, eroded under the corrosive influence of his addiction. Friends faded into the periphery, replaced by fellow addicts and dealers, each as lost as he.
The drugs, once a means of escape, had turned into his prison. The highs grew shorter, the lows more profound. With every dose, the chasm between Sage and the world grew wider. The vibrant student, who once walked the college halls with dreams in his eyes, now wandered the streets, a specter, chasing the next fleeting moment of escape.
But within this desolate landscape, unknown to the world and perhaps even to Sage himself, a spark of redemption was kindling. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there, waiting for the right moment to illuminate the abyss. Yet, for the time being, the night was long, and the darkness deep.
The underbelly of Los Angeles was a far cry from the pristine skies Sage once aimed for. It was a labyrinth of dark alleyways and forgotten souls. A decade's worth of decay, the aftertaste of a horrifying accident back in Prescott, had transformed Sage from a soaring comet to a fallen star.
India, on the other hand, was finding her groove in the city of angels. As an assistant vet tech in the LA Zoo, her days were a blend of wonder and routine - feeding the elephants, playing with the capybaras, assisting with medical procedures, and letting the mesmerizing rhythms of the animals guide her through the challenges of autism and intellectual disabilities. They both had their battles, but India's seemed slightly less daunting.
Between the noisy streets of Los Angeles and the dim recesses of seedy alleyways, Sage's existence played out like a haunting melody, far from the harmonious tunes of his past. The neon signs and the heady scent of trash and car exhaust were a daily reminder of how far he had strayed from the trajectory he once held.
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India's life in the zoo was a stark contrast to Sage's world. The animals she cared for, each with their own quirks and temperaments, became her refuge. The autistic veil she navigated through had its challenges, but the animals were her anchor. To them, she was neither disabled nor different. She was simply India, their caregiver. Their world was uncomplicated, a clear-cut dichotomy of needs and satisfactions. If only human existence were so simple.
Sage's reality was distorted through the lens of addiction. The drugs had a cruel way of making the intolerable bearable, erasing memories of his aspirations and family. He often found himself in a vortex of loathing and dependency, struggling to recall the boy who stared at the skies with a twinkle in his eye, determined to reach the stars. That boy seemed like a distant dream, a figment of a life that might have been.
Every now and then, the tendrils of memory would wrap around his consciousness. Memories of school, of the games he played, of the soccer field, and of the sting of that scorpion. He'd chuckle, his laughter echoing emptily in the night. The Scorpion. Somehow, it felt symbolic now - a harbinger of the sting that addiction brought into his life. Yet, despite the chaos, his memories of India remained untainted. He remembered her unwavering faith in him, the way she looked up to him, drawing strength from his presence, even as she faced her own challenges.
India, while aware of her brother's descent, kept her distance. Not out of disdain or ignorance, but a deep-seated hope that he would find his way back. She often confided in the animals, sensing an understanding in their eyes. The majestic lion would gaze back at her, his golden eyes reflecting both wisdom and sorrow. India believed in nature's healing power. And she hoped, with every fiber of her being, that her brother would find his way back to it.
A series of misadventures peppered Sage's days. Stolen moments of joy, brief interludes of sobriety, followed by the crushing weight of addiction. He’d often find himself wandering near the zoo, listening to the distant roars and chirps. A subconscious yearning, perhaps, to reconnect with India, to be a part of a world where things made sense.
One torrid day, as the sun burned the asphalt, Sage's life took another twist. Through the haze of withdrawal, he witnessed a scene that would snap him back to reality: a man trying to snatch a child from a distraught mother. Time seemed to slow, and his instincts, long dulled but never dead, kicked in. He lunged forward, tackling the man to the ground, enabling the mother to whisk her child away to safety.
The media painted him a hero, the homeless savior. But the accolades meant nothing. The incident, however, dredged up memories of a life once brimming with potential. He remembered India, the lullaby, the late-night laughter. He remembered wanting to be more, to be better.
The incident with the child and the kidnapper wasn't just a random act of valor. It was a cosmic nudge, a brutal wake-up call. The raw, adrenal aftermath of the rescue was a sensation he hadn't felt in years. It wasn’t the high from a substance, but a visceral realization that he still had purpose, that he could still make a difference.
India's discovery of her brother's act was not through a dramatic revelation, but rather through a random headline spouted by her Alexa. She asked for the details, her fingers trembling slightly. There was Sage. Her Sage. Not as the world saw him, but as she remembered – the protective older brother, the beacon of hope. She saw past the ragged exterior and the news narrative, recognizing the familiar glint in his eyes – the same one he had back in Seattle, back at Embry-Riddle. The fire might've dwindled, but it wasn't out. Not yet.
This was the beginning of their paths intertwining once more. Sage's journey back from the abyss had commenced, and India, as always, would be right beside him, guiding him back to the light.
She reached out, and as siblings often do, they reconnected amidst the cacophony of LA's sprawl. It was in the quiet corners of her apartment that Sage confessed his lost years, the grip of addiction, and the shadowy depths to which he'd sunk.
India neither judged nor berated. Instead, she listened. And then, with a simple gesture, she handed him a photo from their younger days - a sun-kissed moment captured during a family vacation to Kenya. She whispered, "This is you, Sage. Remember who you are."
Her words, simple yet profound, began to mend his fractured soul. With her encouragement, and the memory of the boy who dreamed of stars, Sage decided to confront his demons head-on. India, using her contacts from the zoo and the love they shared as siblings, helped him find a reputable rehab center.
As Sage stepped through the doors of the facility, a sense of déjà vu washed over him. It wasn't the skies he was aiming for this time, but a life, a future. One where he wasn't defined by his mistakes but by his potential to rise again.
Phoenix, after all, was not just a part of his name. It was his destiny.