Tainted Hearts (rewriting)

care

I had no clue what I was doing.

I went back and forth moving the scissors to different lengths yet I couldn't bring myself to make the first cut. 

I wasn't sure if i wanted to cut my hair, but I needed it gone. It's just too much of a hassle to maintain it at this point. I could barely find the strength to feed myself three meals a day and shower every night.

Finally fixing in on one position I readied myself to make the cut, but was immediately stopped when I heard a knock at the front door. I almost sighed in relief, I would have asked Amara to come and help me out but I didn't know how to approach her after what happened the last time she was here. 

Placing the scissors on the sink, I went to open the door. I honestly don't know who I expected to be on the other side. I didn't talk to any of my neighbors and it wasn't like I had ordered anything either, but I definitely did not expect to see Daniel  hunched over on my front door step.

I gasped in shock and hurriedly rushed to pull him inside. He looked absolutely awful, his eyes red and sunken into his skull and his hollow cheeks devoid of any color. 

"What the hell happened Daniel," I helped him over to couch, his body instantly sinking into the cushions.

"I ran out," he managed to make out in a raspy voice.

I didn't know much about drug withdrawal, but I ran frantically around the house trying my best to find anything that might help. I grabbed a rag from the closet and a bowl of ice water from the kitchen. Dunking the cloth into the bucket and carefully ringing out the excess water, I folded it on top of his forehead in hopes to help cool him down. 

I wanted to take the heavy sweatshirt off of his body, but with the way he looked so fragile I didn't dare move him. Instead I slowly removed his shoes placing them besides the couch and headed to the kitchen.

What do people eat during a withdrawal? He needed nourishment that was for sure, and by the looks of my fridge that was definitely something I lacked but I had to make do.

I put a can of chicken noodle soup on the stove to heat up and began chopping up whatever vegetables I had lying around. While everything cooked together in the pot I went back into the living room to check up on Daniel. 

He was out cold, for a second I even thought he was dead the way his breaths were so shallow. I could tell he was in a lot of pain, even while unconscious. I was beginning to debate whether or not I was even doing the right thing. Like I should've called an ambulance or something, but for some reason he came to me and I felt this weird sense of responsibility.

Not only that, but it was comforting in a way. To care for someone else the way I wished I could care for myself.

Tragic, yet comforting.