Chains of Obsession

29

♡Emilia♡

5 minutes later, I enter into the room with a medic, Mark.

The medic, Mark, follows me into the room, his face a mask of concern as he sees the state Antonio is in.

Antonio's slumped in the chair, his head hanging down. His breathing is ragged and shallow, and his complexion is pale and waxy.

Mark immediately approaches Antonio, bending down to check his vitals.

"How long has he been like this?" he asks me, his voice quiet but urgent.

"I don't know, at 5 a.m., he showed up, already high." I said.

Mark nods in acknowledgement, his brow furrowing as he gently examines Antonio.

"He took Black Tar Heroin, didn't he?" he asks, looking over at me.

"3 lines." I mumbled.

"Goddammit," Mark mutters under his breath, his expression serious.

He gently lifts one of Antonio's eyelids, studying his dilated pupils. "The dose he took...it's already affecting him dangerously. If we don't act quickly, we risk him sliding into a coma."

He straightens up, his eyes flickering over to me. "Keep him talking if you can. Even if he's incoherent, keep him engaged. We need to keep his mind active."

With that, Mark hurries to a case he brought with him, quickly pulling out several syringes and IV bags.

"Antonio, can you tell me your happiest memory?" I asked. Remembering how he loved talking about that.

Antonio's gaze drifts up to me as I speak, his eyes flickering. He manages a weak smile.

"Happiest memory...?" he murmurs, his voice slurred.

He closes his eyes again, as if trying to recall something.

After a moment, he mumbles, "When I...when I first saw you. On that basketball court. You... you were so angry... and so goddamn pretty..."

A small smile tugs at my lips at his answer. Even now, when he's out of his mind and struggling to stay conscious, he's thinking about the first time he saw me.

Mark, meanwhile, is busy prepping the IV bag and medication, his movements quick and precise.

"Can you remember why I was mad?" I asked him.

Antonio's smile deepens, his eyes still closed. "Yeah... yeah, I remember," he slurs, his voice a low, hoarse murmur.

"You... you were mad because I called you 'princess,'" he continues, his smile growing a bit crooked. "You... you thought it was a stupid nickname...but...but I thought you were acting like a princess. All proud and... and stubborn."

"And what about Amy," I asked. Remembering his ex-girlfriend, who is my dead cousin.

A shadow of sadness flickers across Antonio's face at the mention of Amy.

"Amy..." he murmurs, his voice becoming softer, almost wistful. "She..."

He pauses, his expression going distant for a moment.

Then, he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "She was... she was the first girl I ever loved. She was...so kind. So caring. So...so gentle..."

He stops, his expression becoming pained. I can see the memories of her are bringing up a lot of emotion in him.

Mark, having prepared the IV and medication, glances over at me.

"Keep him talking," he whispers. "We need to keep him conscious."

I nod, taking a deep breath. I can tell the mention of Amy has taken a toll on Antonio, but I have to keep him talking.

"Antonio," I say gently, taking his hand in mine. "Keep going. What else do you remember about Amy?"

Antonio's grip on my hand tightens slightly, his fingers curling around mine. He takes a shuddering breath, his voice growing even softer.

"I...I remember... I remember the way she...she smiled. Like... like a ray of sunshine. And...and I remember the way she laughed. So...so sweet and bright...like...like music..."

His voice trails off, and he swallows hard, his eyes still closed.

It's clear the memories of her are painful for him. I give his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him what comfort I can.

Mark, meanwhile, has finished setting up the IV, and he approaches Antonio to insert the needle into his arm.

"Antonio, can you tell me why you beat up these guys in the day when you saved me before I ran away?" I asked

Antonio's eyes fly open at the question, a look of surprise on his face. Despite the drugs and his weakened state, the memory of that day seems to bring clarity to him.

He blinks a few times, his gaze becoming a bit more focused.

"You... you want to know...why I...?" he mutters, his voice a bit stronger now.

"They...they were...hurtin' you," he manages, the words coming out as a low, hoarse whisper. "I couldn't... couldn't let them...hurt you..."

"Let him rest now." Mark said.

I nod, watching as Mark slowly releases the medication into Antonio's IV.

Antonio's grip on my hand tightened slightly, but his lids slowly flutter closed, his head lolling back against the chair.

The effects of the medication kick in quickly, and Antonio's body begins to sag as he starts to drift off to sleep.

Mark watches him closely, his hand on Antonio's wrist, checking his pulse.

"He'll sleep now," Mark says quietly, glancing over at me. "The medication will help flush the drugs out of his system. We'll keep him on an IV to replenish his fluids and vitamins."

I nod, watching as Antonio's breathing starts to even out, his face relaxing as he slips into unconsciousness.

I let out a weary sigh, letting go of his hand. "Will he be okay?" I ask quietly.

Mark glances up at me, his expression a bit more relaxed now.

"He'll be okay," he assures me. "The most dangerous part is over. But he'll need time to recover. The detox process will take a toll on him, and he'll likely have some cravings and withdrawal symptoms."