The Desired Effect ~ Cameron Liddell

Chapter 25. "Hurts"

"I can't, I can't do it." I sobbed into my knees on the toilet seat. My entire body felt like it was on fire, breaking down and burning. "It hurts."

"I know, baby." Cameron held me tightly.

"I need it- I can't do it C-Cameron."

"No, Nomes. You don't need it, I promise you. I know it hurts but it will pass. I feel it too." He picked me up and set me on his lap, straddling him. He kissed my nose and my forehead before pulling me close. "It's okay, baby. I know it hurts. I know. It'll be gone soon. Just picture it's leaving. All the pain and the bad thoughts are leaving through your tears. Leaving your body." I nodded, closing my eyes and trying desperately to focus. Usually it worked. Today was different. Every one of my muscles were cramping and constricting and my skull was shrinking around my brain so tightly that even trephination couldn't help.

"I can't, I can't today. C-Cameron it hurts s-so bad." He just gently rubbed my back and didn't say anything, until I eventually cried myself to sleep. When I woke up I was on the pullout couch in our living room, Cameron asleep beside me. He opened his eyes just after I did. The pain was back down to its usual level. The truth was, it always hurt. Twitch took away the hurt, and without twitch, the hurt came back. My body felt more like spent, entirely exhausted ashes, than a raging fire.

"Does it still hurt?" Cameron said quickly.

"Yes. But it's manageable." I said, and cuddled back into his warm body. Mine was still cold. "I'm just tired." He nodded and closed his eyes again.

"Just sleep, love. Just sleep today. We'll try again tomorrow." He pulled me closer and kissed my forehead slowly as he fell asleep. I wanted to be better for him. I knew he was doing his best to be better for me. I knew he felt the fire too, maybe just not as bad. I was more addicted than he was from the beginning. I didn't know how I could ever thank him for all he's done for me. He was the only thing keeping me alive, and that's exactly what I was struggling to do. He deserved my recovery more than I did.

I hated being sober. I couldn't help but wish for the exact thing that caused the excruciating pain all over my body as if I was being drawn and quartered over and over again. I couldn't walk for more than a block, couldn't speak without stuttering, couldn't move without shaking. I still wanted it. Eating made my stomach hurt like pouring gasoline on the fire that was already burning my skin. I still wanted it. I scratched myself so hard I bled. I still wanted it. It made me try to kill myself, it made me think Cameron didn't love me, that I was no good, that he wants me gone too. I still wanted it. It ruined my face, my body, my relationships, my mind, my life. I still wanted it.

I need it more than air I fucking need it. I can't do this, I can't get clean. I need it. I just fucking need it. I want it so bad. I don't want to sleep and I don't want to be awake. I don't want to eat and I don't want to starve. I don't want to fucking breathe anymore. I want my pain gone. I just want it gone. I got off the couch and managed to get away from Cameron without waking him up. Somehow I managed to get dressed and get cash without throwing up. I called my dealer.

Cameron

"Naomi." Was the first thing I said when I woke up. She wasn't beside me. I looked around. No trace of her but the misshapen sheets beside me and a few of her half colored hairs on the pillow. I jumped up and ran around the house looking for her. Anything to say she was there. Anything to say where she had gone. Her old clothes were on the floor. New ones taken. Cash gone. I knew immediately where she went, or at least what her goal was. If she made it there, she would be high again. If not, she could have passed out while driving and flipped into a ditch. She could have gotten into an accident. She could have passed out before she even got to the car and be laying there in the parking garage. Her heart could have given out halfway to the car. She could be dead in the elevator. She could be dead right outside our front door. I slipped on my shoes as fast as I could and ran downstairs.

"Naomi?" I screamed into the phone as she hung up on me. She answered for a second, said nothing, and hung up. My heart was in my throat. I started driving.

"911 what's your emergency?"

"My wife Naomi Liddell is missing I can't find- She's run off and I don't know where she is and I can't-"

"Okay please calm down sir, do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

"No! I just said that!" I screamed into the phone.

"Okay, how long has she been missing?"

"I don't know, a... a few hours maybe. But you don't understand, she's sick-"

"Sir, please, calm down. We're going to do everything you can. What's her name?"

"Naomi Liddell. I'm Cameron, I'm her husband. You have to find her. She left when I was sleeping. You really have to find her."

"Are you sure she isn't just on a walk, or at the store?"

"No, you don't understand, she can't be alone! She's a fucking addict and she's gone!" I dropped my phone, and stopped the car. She's an addict. And she's gone. She's an addict. An addict. My wife is an addict. And she's gone. I could hear the operator calling for me over the phone but couldn't even bend down to hang up. After ten minutes of cars honking at my stopped car in the middle of the street, I drove into an empty parking lot and stopped again. I had never said it out loud before. My wife cannot be alone, because she is an addict, and now she's gone. She's gone. She left me. Anything, anything, anything but losing Naomi.

She could hardly walk to the kitchen, so how could she leave me? If the water was too hot in the shower she would pass out, so how could she leave me? She couldn't be alone in any room because she wanted me, so how could she leave me? She was doing better, so how could she leave me? It had been hours. I hadn't moved.