something sad, something scary

I just got home. And I’m glad to be here. My friends know that to get to my apartment, there’s like a tunnel you have to go through, well, it’s called a “porte cochère”. It’s kind of dark and a bit scary but I’m used to walking through it to get to my place.

Well, today, as I was walking through it with my just-rented copy of disc 3 of season 5 of 24, I noticed a hunched figure in the middle of the tunnel. Unfortunately, it was one of those moments where you notice something too late to do anything about it and there’s no turning back. So I didn’t turn back, I kept walking. And when I looked at him, he was inserting a needle into his arm.

Okay, now, I’m a little squeamish, so my heart began racing (as his was slowing down I assume…). It wasn’t really about how this was gross though, it was about how scary and sad it was at the same time. I almost ran up the stairs and quickly got inside my apartment.

On the one hand, I feared for my safety. Being a single white female in a city of several million (2, I think?) can be a little frightening at times. I am always amazed however, how safe it feels in Montreal though. It’s such a nice and happy city, full of happy people. Maybe this is why this little incident was so frightening and disturbing.

But sad at the same time. How sad for someone to be driven to such desperation as to shoot up next to a stranger’s house (or anywhere for that matter, though heroine clinics seem to be a big hit in Vancouver).

Okay, Jack, cheer me up. Tell me that the world can be saved by you. That’s what I need to hear right now.