Fragments

VI

This has depressing thoughts and drug use in it, so please don't read on if you're uncomfortable with that (you know the drill by now).

Yeah we were doing a creative writing unit in English and we were assigned an emotion and had to write a 400-500 word story with the main character feeling that emotion. I did two and this was the one I decided against using so I thought I might as well put it on here. My emotion was 'Abused' so yeah nice and happy for you all. Enjoy.

***

I stumble out of the door into the smoggy dark, dry retching, with tears tumbling down my cheeks and hands clamped around my stomach.
I feel no relief to get out; only a resignation that finally, it's over. Until next time - but that's something I can't think of. My trembling whimpers give way to shuddering sobs that rack my body. I crumple to the cold, unforgiving concrete, back against the dirty brick walls. It's almost as if I've left my body, and I can see it from above, like how a guardian angel would see me, if only I had one. If only my dirty, impure body was worth one.

I wish it would end. I've always been told be careful what you wish for, but a respite is all I want right now, whether it's brief or long-term. I wish I didn't have to do this, I wish I could make a living without being sworn at and abused, and I wish I could live a life free from the impurity I face every day.
I know what I need. My hand inches behind me to my back pocket, sending spikes of pain through my body with every movement. Finally, finally, my fingers graze the cool glass cylinder, and air slumps out of my lungs in a sigh of relief. I thought it might have been broken, but it was saved, and so I was too.

I lean my head against the red brick wall with tears leaking from my eyes. I take in the dirty bins to my left, and the deserted street to my right. Looking up past the buildings I can see the stars glittering, high above me, and I think how beautiful it must be to see everything and my unaffected by any of it. But I'm here, trapped, not only in this narrow alleyway, but in my body and life.

If I had any energy left the towering brick buildings would make me feel claustrophobic, but I'm at the point where I can't even feel fear. If someone were to hold a gun to my head right now, I'd close my eyes and wait for it to end.

My fingers grip the syringe in my back pocket and I draw it out, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of the amber liquid in it. My only energy is coming from the need for it. With my free hand I reach up to the inside of my elbow and search for the vein, slapping the skin to find it. Then, I insert the needle, barely noticing the sting of it breaking my skin, and push the drug from the syringe into my bloodstream. And I wait.
It comes. The pain is gone, swept away along with my worries, and I feel happy, warm safe. For now at least, everything is perfect.