Regretful Love

Chapter Seven

                  

The bad decisions didn't happen as often now as they used to, but Kell still recognised them as soon as they came. When he woke the next morning, weak sunlight streaming through the cracks in the barn walls, the girl was gone. He kept an ear out for her as he packed his stuff away, and, rolling his blanket up and stuffing it into his bag, he felt the cold of the metal box inside. But he stopped himself from taking it out. He'd had a dose in the night; maybe he could make it through the rest of the morning without another.

He picked up the plates from the night before and slid quietly around the back of the house and placed them on the step by the door. Despite the woman's saying they got up early 'round here, he saw no sign of anyone up and about. He helped himself to some clean water from the yard tap, then went back to collect his pack, still hoping the girl would materialise.

By the time he was done and ready to start walking for the day, she was still nowhere to be found. Well, thought Kell, maybe my little talk the day before scared her off. He shook his head sadly as he put his pack on, wondering if he could have done something differently, wondering if there was something he hadn't said.

***

The first mile or so was fine. Kell worked the kinks out of his muscles and walked, head down, watching the gravelly road pass under his feet. But then his knees started again, complaining and grumbling whenever he took a step. He could deal with that, though. Had to.

The pains in his chest came before most of the world was even awake. Each breath he took was like being stabbed in the lungs, and, even though he kept on walking, he could feel his muscles starting to seize up. He was sweating now, and the real heat of the day hadn't even started yet. Sweating so much that his shirt and pants were drenched through, and he could feel the waistband of his jeans chafing against his skin.

He looked up, and the landscape started to spin a little, fading at the edges of his vision. God, he needed help. The pain was eating him up, so hard and tight and deep that he couldn't do anything but feel it. His knees started to shake, and putting one foot in front of the other took immense effort. He stumbled to the side of the road and slid, half-falling into the drainage ditch that would hide him from sight. And he lay there, knowing he'd been seconds from passing out right there on the road.

Lying seemed to help a little but not much. When he had a little strength in his fingers, he started fumbling around in his pack and an eternity later pulled out the metal box. He didn't think about how much he'd had the night before or when it had been. He didn't consider anything but getting the needle into his skin and having the drug take away the feeling that he was going to die at any second.

Again and again he pierced his skin with the needle, and again and again he came up with nothing until finally, blood dripping down to his wrist from puncture marks, he got it and slid the needle down and pressed the plunger and let go.

He screwed his eyes closed for a second, and when he opened them again, the bright sun blinding, the girl was sitting opposite him, watching. Just watching.

It was long, long minutes before he could speak. And when he could, he knew he'd taken too much. His tongue was heavy, the words coming out slurred, running together. He saw her eyes looking at him.

"What have you done?" she asked. There was no judgment in her voice.

"Done bad things," Kell managed to spit out. "Bad, bad things. So many bad things. And I did something terrible, truly terrible."

"What?" she asked.

"Something terrible." Colours were starting to swirl around in front of him like a child's kaleidoscope, constantly changing and moving.