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.

"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 it's 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. I hate being sober. I feel like my insides are on fire and I can't help but wish for what's torn me apart. It ruined my life. It has completely torn me apart and shat on the pieces. I can hardly walk, hardly speak without stuttering, hardly move without shaking, without it. Eating makes my fucking stomach hurt, like pouring gasoline on the fire that was already burning my skin. I scratched at myself so hard I bled. It made me try to kill myself. It made me think that Cameron didn't love me. That he didn't want me, and I was a no good addict, and that I might as well just kill myself. That I wasn't worth living. It ruined my face, and my body, and my relationships, and my mind, but I still miss 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's POV

"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 on the floor. New ones taken. And cash gone. Where could she be? Where would she be? Is she okay? Is she with someone? Danny? Oh my god. Is she buying? What if she went to get Twitch. What if she's getting high right now? In a ditch somewhere? Oh god. I slipped on my shoes as fast as I could and ran out of the house.

"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 called 911.

"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. "SHE'S A FUCKING ADDICT AND SHE'S GONE." I stopped. 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. Disappeared. 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 couldn't believe what I had said. She's gone. I had no idea where she went. No idea how she would have even gotten there, because she could hardly walk to the fucking kitchen from the bedroom. She could hardly stand in the shower. So how could she leave me. It had been hours. I hadn't moved.