Tainted Hearts (rewriting)

addicted

Daniel's POV

I laughed as the single tear drop tickled my cheek. How ironic, me sitting her alone with an empty bag of coke and my body hanging on by a thread. 

I shivered in withdrawal and my shirt was disgustingly drenched with sweat. This wasn't the first time I'd been in a pinch like this. I had used up the last of every drug I owned about two days ago and I had not a single penny left. 

My heart was like a scratched CD, skipping every other beat, pumping erratically. I probably should've drove myself to a hospital, but god knows I wouldn't last two minutes behind that wheel.

I slipped on a pair of my sneakers and threw on a hoodie making sure to pull the hood far over my zombie like face. I walked down the road clutching on to my abdomen, the exercise only made the pain worse. 

I was so focused on the agonising pain that I failed to notice my feet moving on their own, I hadn't a clue where they would take me.

The air was a bitter cold and the sky was a typical English grey. All I could see were the shoes of those who walked past me as I stumbled down the sidewalk with my head down. I wonder what my parents would think of me now, my brother. I was a shit excuse for a person, and I'm just surprised I managed to last this long with the way I've handled things so poorly. 

I turned the corner and crossed at an intersection, my feet stopping on their own accord. I shifted my hood back a little I look up at the building in front of me and froze.

Elle's house.