Power of Will, a SAW Fanfiction

Ch. 37 Pre-SAW: Withdrawal, Renewal, No Deal

Amanda Young

The bus took her far from that cursed place.

She had survived the three years of her sentence. Now, she was free.

It was a hollow feeling. She had no plans, outside of the steel bars and concrete cage. No family would take her in. The only person she could think of to turn to was Cecil, who owed her big time. She felt like a tumbleweed, blown about in the dirt by the cruel world.

She knew she was being pathetic, feeling sorry for herself.

The bus slowed to a stop, taking her just west of the Crossroads, the farthest stop of the route. She got off.

It was early afternoon. A distant siren released her adrenaline. The thought of men in blue filled her gut with dread. She was already feeling so tired, she could collapse.

She knew there wasn't a lot she could do, besides enter the crummy building. Climb the cracked stairs. Knock on the door with peeling plaster.

The door opened and Cecil's black eyes glittered back at her. "'manda."

"Cecil."

He moved to let her inside, closing the door behind her. The place was small. A mattress on the floor, cardboard boxes as makeshift tables, and a familiar spread of pills and brown stained spoons on the kitchen counter gave her a forlorn smile.

"How was prison?"

"What do you think?" She would have punched him in the face if he wasn't offering his place for her to crash. She needed to get herself back on her feet. Find a job. Get clean.

Speaking of. She wiped the sweat on her brow. She had been kept steady in supply while locked up. The irony that she had all the drugs she could have wished while in prison wasn't lost on her.

She knew it was going to be a rough few weeks. But she intended to get clean. She was going to fix her life.

"Want a hit?" Cecil was already wrapping his arm with a rubber tube.

"How much?"

Cecil paused, raising an eyebrow. "You for real? I thought you didn't touch the shit."

"Yeah. That was before." Before she lost her freedom, for a crime she never committed. For Cecil's crimes.

The man smirked. "Alright," he sounded almost gleeful. "First round's on me. For, you know." His tone held just the slightest semblance of remorse. So he does know he did me wrong.

This did little to make her feel better, though.

What would was the promise of that warm, pleasant buzz that was sure to come from that needle. Cecil always bragged about only buying primo shit.

She took stray surgical tubing and wrapped it around her upper arm, pulling with her teeth as her heart picked up in eager anticipation.

Cecil flicked his lighter and heated up the powder under the spoon, letting it turn to liquid. Antiseptic and burnt rubber filled her nose.

There was an awkward moment as he filled the syringe. He went to push the needle into his inner arm, pushing the plunger inward, the light yellow liquid vanishing. Cecil's face relaxed and he let out a slow breath.

Amanda went to help herself, taking a spare syringe that looked somewhat clean, draining the last vestiges of fluid from the spoon. There wasn't much furniture to sit on. Cecil was already taking up the dingy mattress in the corner. She sat on a dry spot on the carpet.