anxious and alone |dnf|

yes

TW: drugs (hard drugs), addiction, anxiety, depression, mention of overdose, mention of dying, personality change, implied suicidal thoughts, violence, drug deal

Dreams POV:

I breathed in and out, opening my eyes slowly. I was wearing an oxygen tube through my nose and an IV in my arm. My head hurt aggressively as the beeping monitor seemed to get louder. I was alone in the room.

What the fuck happened? Did I...? No, that's impossible, right?

I began to panic, and my breathing increased as well as my heart rate. George was gone. Where is he?

Then it hit me. People came into my house, my drugs were lying on the table. They're probably gone. I have no drugs in my system. Even though I had a breathing device I couldn't breathe. My body started hurting all over just by the thought of being sober. I again lacked the air needed to survive.

I guess the increase in heart rate and decrease in oxygen alerted a nurse, a small woman walked in panicked and searching for what was wrong. I point to my mouth, lungs gasping for air. She takes the tube out of my nose and places a mask on my face, holding it there until I take control of it. I breathed in heavily, my heart slowing down. "So you're awake!" she says happily. I look down into my lap, embarrassed.

A few seconds later a doctor walks in holding a chart. She thanks the nurse and begins to flip through a few papers. "Clay Miller?" she asks. I nod.

"You've been out for 2 days you know." I felt my stomach drop. "You had an overdose," the rest of what she said was blurry, my heart felt shattered. George. I almost died in front of George? Tears filled my eyes as my breathing began to slow down again. My body was still engulfed in pain. "You're very lucky to be alive." she finished. I look up at her and let the tears fall, she smiles faintly and leaves the room.

I overdosed.

<<<>>>

After a day I was allowed to go home, I didn't need to go to rehab cause they believed that I was okay now. George came to pick me up with an uber. As I walked into the car I felt sadness cover every inch of my body. I didn't say anything and neither did he. The entire ride home I looked out the window, I could feel George's eyes on me though.

When we arrived at my house I wanted to cry, I hate living there. George paid the driver and walked into the house a few seconds after me. It was... clean? Any garbage and clothes were off the floor, but.. oh.

I freeze in my tracks, staring at the table in front of my couch, it was cleared of any substances. My chest caved in. George closes the door and then looks at me, concerned. "What's wrong?" he asks. I blink slowly and shake my head. "Nothing.."

I walk toward my room, George's eyes burning into the back of my head. I stop.

"I'm gonna go to sleep," I say.

"Clay," George begins. "I'm tired." I interrupt.

"You've been sleeping for 2 days straight, Clay." he replies.

I turn around and look at him, trying to hold in my tears. He looked angry. "Are you mad?" I ask. He takes a moment. "No, just scared."

I begin to nod, frowning. No matter the conversation I was having there was only one thing on my mind. Drugs. I point past George and to the bare table. He turns around to look at it, then looks back at me.

"I paid $350 for that," I state. "The table?" George asks, confused.

"No. The fucking drugs, George." I couldn't control it, anything. There was no point in trying either way.

"Yeah? Well, the cops took them." he pauses, "I mean, they almost killed you."

I let out a shaky breath, trying not to sob right then and there. "I don't think you should've come here." I say.

"Really? I find that interesting. If I wasn't here who knows what could've happened."

He walks closer by a few steps, tears fell down my face. "I need those." my voice started to shift. "Are you serious? You are still chasing after the goddamn drugs that almost KILLED YOU?"

"I'm an addict, aren't I?"

"You OVERDOSED Clay! Is that not enough to make you stop?" He steps closer and closer. He points at me, "I watched your body shut down! I SAW your skin turn an unlively colour! I thought you were going to fucking die, do you not get that? Why can't you just stop?"

"That's not how it works George! You can't just magically stop! You try getting addicted to drugs and then TELL ME HOW EASY IT IS TO STOP!" My legs felt like they were going to give out.

"Do you want to be fucking dead, Clay?" he asks.

"Yes." his expression changed. "I would have rather died that day than be here right now with you." I waited a few seconds, no response.

"You sit here and act like you give a fuck when you don't give two shits. You came here to criticize me after YOU were the person that made me like this. You are a fucking hypocrite and I can't even stand to look at you. You fucking disgust me." I grimace.

"Clay," George sobbed, I knew what I said hurt him, he deserved it. "No. I fucking hate what you did to me. I would have never done this to you."

I walk into my room and slam the door behind me. The room was dark and cold. I slid down the side of my door, crying into the palm of my hands. My knees stayed close to my chest and as soon as I heard the front door close I curled in. Every single one of my ribs felt snapped in half as my heart burned. I felt like I was going to throw up. All of my bones were crushed and my body felt like it was on fire again, like I was being burned alive. Why did he come here? I wish I'd just die.

I look up to my bed, eyes lighting up. My breathing became fast as I slowly stood up and walked over to my mattress. I crouch down and lift it up, revealing nothing.

"What?" The cops searched my room. They took everything. I'm screwed.

The rage in my chest began to boil, George, the hospital, and now this? "Fuck!" I yell, throwing a glass at my wall. It shatters after making a loud crashing sound. By now I'd thrown multiple items off my desk, including a keyboard.

George opens my door and walks towards me telling me to stop. "Fuck you." I say, turning to him. "I know you're angry, but you need to understand that-" I cut him off.

"You don't know what I'm feeling." I turn around, grab my phone and wallet and head for the door. Though George stands in front of it. "Where are you going?"

"Get out of my way." He remains where he is. I push him out of the way, he pushes back. I grab him, holding him against the wall. His eyes flash back and forth between mine, fear and tears flushing through them. "Stop it! You..you're scaring me." He says. I let him go and walk away, hearing him sob on my way out.

<<<>>>

"What's up man? Didn't you just buy from me a few days ago?" A voice says. "The feds found my stash and took it. Can I get some new stuff?"

"For sure, the same as before?"

"No." I say. "What harder stuff do you have? And preferably nothing that I have to snort."

"Well you can't really get harder than heroin, but I could get you some crack, I can give you a pipe and a few bags. It'll come at a cost though.." the voice says, I could hear his smirk at the end. "I don't care about the money. I just need the product."

"Okay I can be at your place in a half hour."

"No I need to meet you somewhere else. I don't live there anymore." I smile.

~
I'm back BITCHES. This book is taking a turn and I'm sorry but it will not end how you think it will

Still love you guys though <333