Step 1: Honesty - Admit powerlessness over the addiction
Song: Remember When by Wasia Project
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L I N C O L N
There's a dream that's been haunting me every night for the past month. It always started the same; with me standing in the middle of the dark. I couldn't tell where I was but it felt like I was trapped in a room with no windows and no doors to keep any light from entering. The only thing I could hear were crickets chirping like they do at night when it was quiet. In the midst of the quiet, there was a scream.
That's when the sound of sirens came. It was faint but grew louder and louder as if it were drawing near to me. As the sound grew, my eyes felt heavy as I tried to open them. Even though it was blurry, I could still see the light keeping me from opening my eyes completely. I could make out shadows of people hovering over me, they were talking, but it sounded like broken audio. There was a combination of siren background noise, radio traffic, and people talking urgently. Even with all that noise I could hear a small cry, and then there was silence.
I was back in the darkroom; only this time, there were no crickets, no sirens, and no lights. Just pitch black with the only sound of my heavy breathing.
And then I heard a voice echo.
"Please don't leave me, Lincoln!"
"Please! Please!"
"Lincoln!"
"Lincoln!"
"Lincoln."
My eyes shot open from the gentle shake I felt on my arm. Instinctively, I turned to look into the blue eyes that were filled with concern.
"You okay?" Zach asked softly, his eyes swirled with the urge to question me but held himself back.
Without a word, I nodded and sat up. I felt the cold sweat on my skin when I shifted in my seat. I felt uncomfortable. That dream I couldn't distinguish as a nightmare, kept me up all night and it was starting to follow me at every opportunity I found sleep. I wasn't sure if it was because I was going home or because of the extra therapy sessions I had to endure before being cleared to be here.
"Attention passengers, we will be landing in fifteen minutes," the voice of the flight attendant came on the intercom.
Zach nudged my arm with his elbow and gestured for me to put on my seatbelt just as the sign indicated. Zach has been looking after me since I was fifteen. You could say he was like a second father to me.
I felt my fingers start to slightly tremble and it didn't help that I felt confined in such a small space. It was almost like I couldn't breathe, I tried clenching my hands to stop the shaking as I stared out the window to try and focus on something else just as my therapist taught me.
"Link," the tone in my Uncle's voice was something I couldn't pick out. It was steady and calm, but it left no hint of how he was feeling.
I hesitated before turning to look Zach in the eyes, but all he had was concern along with the beginning signs of aging on his face. Wrinkles that weren't there two years ago were noticeably displayed in the corners of his eyes.
I deflected before my Uncle started the conversation I was trying to avoid.
"Fifteen hours, Zach."
Zach sighed, "Don't give me that look."
"I'm going to give you the look, you know I hate tight spaces."
We were stuck in a box of an airplane for fifteen hours and four minutes. He deserved more than just a look for booking the wrong plane ticket.
YOU ARE READING
The 12 Steps
Teen Fiction*DISCLAIMER* READ AT YOUR OWN RISK: This book deals with serious topics and themes of drug use, PTSD, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and suicide attempts. This book contains realistic depictions of opioid use. Recovered and recovering addicts should...