A Shamefully Broken Promise To Myself Read Count : 116

Category : Books-Non-Fiction

Sub Category : Biography



     Naked, I sit on the edge of my bed, in which I imagine to be the edge of a rocky cliff, high enough to take one last fresh breath of air before I descend into a much deserved death. My arms shake from the numerous self-inflicted holes littering my throbbing arms and legs as they leak a reddish-brown. I try to wipe the blood with trembling fingers; instead, it smears and soaks into the skin. Where is this blood coming from? It wasn't there when I had the damn needle searching for it. 

     The warm sun rays are magnified as they peer through the window next to my bed. My frail body basks in the soothing sensation as it frightens away the pale goosebumps. My body temperature fluctuates between warm and freezing. I wrap a blanket around myself as fast as I rip it off in a sweat. While my body can't make up its mind, my head is swamped from a constant flow of warm tears that ooze out of every orifice. It's been ten hours since my last shot of heroin and this is how my body tells me it needs more. 

     I try one of the leaking holes again. The needle actually hurts as it punctures my skin. The syringe is old and I don't have any new ones, nor the $3.75 for a pack. And I definitely don't have time to go get any. I could find change around the house if I looked under every nook and cushion. I don't have time for all that, though. I whip my head to the left toward my bedside table. My alarm clock, sitting amongst the clutter of orange caps and blackened spoons, reads ten past nine. I'm running horribly late this morning. 

     As I turn back to my arm, I slide the needle around slowly looking for the right spot until a spew of red mixes itself into the chamber. It mixes with the thick nectar that my body craves. Hope at last.

    Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

    

     With my level of anxiety being abnormally high, the sound jolts me like an electric shock sending a wave of fear through my body. I'm startled as if my roommate had opened up my door, catching me in the act of shooting up. She would flip her shit if she found me like this. I would too. 

     Amongst the chaos on my table, my phone trembles with each ring. I look back at my arm. Blood is seeping out, making a beeline for the carpet. I couldn't care less about that, with the needle pointed down at my stained arm. 

     Dammit, I had it!

     The want and need for the shot screams out in pain. I can feel my face cringe, not from the physical discomfort of being dope sick, but from the mental agony of knowing this one shot will take all of this. Yet, I can't do it. 

     My phone beeps. 

     Whoever called had left a voicemail. The multiple seizure attacks it suffered from each ring left it to die on the floor. I know who it is before I even look at the screen. 

     "Of course…" I wheeze out. 


     WHERE ARE YOU? YOU WERE SCHEDULED FOR 9AM!!!!!!

                       —Vicky, Mimi’s Café, Manager


     My body goes limp and falls back onto the cold, damp sheets from sweating while I slept. The needle stabs my foot after I let it go, but I'm not phased by it. Each muscle in my arms and legs throb with each beat of my heart. My bones are weak. I can't shake the vision of each of snapping like a toothpick if I stand up. 

     I'm fired for sure this time. Goddamnit. 

     I must get this dope in me one way or another. But I don't know how. 

     Then, it hits me. I lift my body up so I'm sitting upright. I look down at a vein I said I'd never use. 

     The unspeakable. 

     The big no-no. 

     There is still the one spot every junky swears never to use. 

     I don't have a choice though…

     

Comments

  • my cousin let her life by consumed by dope.. thank you for writing to this let me be able to understand a bit better, what its like going through it💔

    Nov 20, 2018

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