Calamity [Zarry Stylik AU]©️

Chapter 4: I AM A FUNCTIONAL ADDICT

Z

WEEKS BEFORE

I was still sick, exhausted from fighting the first stages of withdrawal and I still wanted to die.

But alas, I woke up the following day, someway, somehow. The door opened and the same nurse I met the previous day came in, she had a pile of clothes in her hand.

"Morning, Zayn." She greeted me with a smile. I finally noticed her face, she was a beautiful woman, with dark hair and blue eyes. Her kindness and love were visible on her face. I didn't want to be rude to her. "Remember me?"

"Not really," I replied honestly, with my voice coming out like a whisper.

The nurse didn't falter. Stepping closer to me, she stood right at the foot of my bed.

"I'm Nurse Twist. Anne. I met you yesterday when you arrived."

"Right,"

Anne looked at me and then placed the pile of clothing on top of the bed.

"Why don't you get dressed, and I show you around the place?"

I could easily identify the clothes as scrubs.

"Is this a mental hospital?"

"No, it's a rehabilitation clinic."

"Why do I need to wear those, then?"

"Your clothes haven't arrived yet. I'm sure you don't want to walk around smelling like throw up. That would be very upsetting to you and the other patients." The nurse walked to the other side of the bedroom, opening a closed door - that I hadn't even noticed before. Inside was a small shower with a sink and a toilet. If only I knew instead of throwing up in the corner. "There's hot water, shampoo, soap, fresh towels. Get clean up, and meet me outside. Okay?"

I looked at the shower, feeling grounded to the mattress under me. If I made a move, it sealed my fate with rehabilitation and that's not how it worked.

Now, granted, I know I'm an addict, okay? I have been knowing that. However, I also know I am a functional addict. Meaning, that I would function with drugs! I could do it. Rehab would only work when I, Zayn Malik, was ready for it and I wasn't ready for it. I know myself well and I know that I can stop all of this whenever I want, okay? Zayn could abandon drugs if Zayn wanted to.

I looked at the nurse who egged me on with a smile.

"Fine," I replied.

"Great."

Anne walked out, closing the door behind her and I was left alone feeling shite.

****

I must admit the shower felt good. It washed all the smell and weight of withdrawal from me, although I was itching for a pill or a smoke. I looked at the mirror barely not recognizing my face: I had lost some weight, dark circles under my eyes and the buzzcut I had was starting to fade. I was a ghostly version of myself. Who was this filthy addict in front of me?

I walked out of the room, meeting the nurse outside as promised.

"Well, don't you clean up well, Mr Malik?

"Please, call me Zayn."

"All right," Anne's eyes fell on my neck. "You've scratched yourself raw over there, Zayn."

I didn't even notice. I touch the side of my neck feeling thin lines forming on the top of my skin.

"I didn't realize."