Addict {h.s}

two

I woke up to blurry, bright light being shone in my face. I groaned and closed my eyes tightly, trying to protect my now sensitive from the blinding light above me. My head was pounding, and my limbs ached. They ached so much I could barely move them without wincing in pain. I finally opened my eyes and they adjusted themselves to the surroundings, and above me were two faces. One familiar, one not so much.

"Harry! Harry! Wake up!" Someone sung at me. I furrowed my eyebrows at the young girl with a mildly worried expression on her face. I stayed quiet as my brain was slowly processing what was going on around me.

"Don't suppose you've taken anything today, have you?" she enquired. I looked up at her and slowly shook my head. "Withdrawal. You passed out." she stated simply.

"Oh." I almost whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"It's okay. It's normal. Absolutely nothing to worry about. How are you feeling?" She asked, not taking her eyes off of the clipboard she was filling in.

"Uh, okay. My head hurts a bit." I groaned and as if on cue, the pounding intensified.

"Okay. Here's some painkillers for you." She said blankly, placing two small tablets in my hand. As I took the tablets, I examined her face. She had absolutely no expression on her face. She was completely unreadable. I suppose that's what a place like this does to you. However, although her face was emotionless, her eyes told a different story. They were dark blue with long eyelashes that compliment the colour. Her brown hair was messily tied up in a ponytail, and her scubs-like outfit, although was rather messy and unkept, suit her well.

"You can stop staring now, Mr. Styles." She stated simply, without looking up from her clipboard. I diverted my eyes quickly to my hands. Finally, she finished writing on her clipboard and glanced up at me, holding the board against her chest, wrapping her arms around it. 

"Well, since you're clearly not well enough, why don't we reschedule this for tomorrow? Hopefully then you will be feeling a little more normal." She smiled falsely, examining me with her eyes. I nodded and slowly sat myself up. The door had been opened for me, and I was gently ushered out.

"Come back tomorrow at 2 p.m. See you then." They were the last words said to me by the not-so-lovely Jane, before the door was shut in my face. I turned my head to find myself once again in the corridor of death, rubbing my eyes to try and get rid of the blurriness that still engulfed me. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time, and I realised I had been here for a number of hours now. 

  I arrived to the reception, where the old hunched woman was in the same position she was in when I left her. Just as I had pushed open the front doors, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Harry! Harry, wait a second!" a breathless call yelled behind me, as the footsteps became closer. I spun around to see the young, expressionless girl behind me. "In case of any emergencies, here's my number. I work night shifts sometimes so I can come out to you if need be," she said, handing me a piece of white card as she gradually caught her breath. I took the card and expected it. Written on it was a mobile number, and her name - Amber.

"Oh, yeah. Thank you." I said quietly, shoving the piece of paper in my pocket before hurrying out of the door and straight back home.

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I kicked my shoes off and went directly to my fridge, filled purely with multi-packs of different types of alcohol. I grabbed the first can I saw, opened it up and gulped it down all in the matter of seconds. I gasped for air as I finally finished the can, throwing it towards the bin behind me, but missing completely. I hadn't had a drink all day, and my body really was hating me for it. I felt as if I was going insane, the voices in my head literally yelling at me for a drink. I grabbed another from the fridge and made my way to the couch. I threw myself down back onto the old couch, probably adding more rips to the leather as I did so. I threw my beanie off and dropped it onto the floor, running my hand through my greasy and knotted hair, that was now just past the bottom of my ear. I pulled my phone out of the pocket of my hoodie, which was decorated in multiple holes and stains. As I got ahold of my phone, the little piece of paper I had received earlier had fallen out onto my lap. I picked it up, and examined it once more.

  I added the phone number written on the paper into my contacts under the simple name of "Amber."

3 hours, and 8 beers later, I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling in an attempt to make the room stop spinning around me. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to blink away the thoughts that are racing around my head. My breathing became heavy and my body felt completely numb. The only thing I could feel was my heart beat intensifying  inside my chest. My ears started ringing and I realised what was happening. I shot up in bed and reached for my inhaler that was beside my bed. I took 2 deep breathes whilst puffing my inhaler, and I realised nothing was happening. I was having a panic attack, but usually my inhaler helps them. This time is different. Breathless and panting, I reached out to grab my phone. I shakily typed;

It's Harry. I'm having a panic attack. I can't breathe. Help.

And pressed send. I stood up, running my hands through my hair. My thoughts often got me in a state like this, voices in my head telling me how pathetic and useless I was.

I sat in the corner of my room with my knees pressed against my chest, and my forehead rested upon them. The room began to spin once more, but I was soon pulled out of my state when the door went. I yelled that it was unlocked, and I heard rushing heels coming towards me. I looked up and saw the familiar face that was Amber.

"Hey, Harry, it's okay. Deep breaths," she said softly, dropping her bag onto the floor and kneeling down besides me. "It's okay. In through your nose, out from your mouth." she said, resting her hand on my back. 

"If I could fucking breathe in the first place that's what I'd be doing." I huffed, trying to steady my breathing. She frowned at my reply, slowly removing her hand from my shoulder.

"I'm guessing you've tried an inhaler?" She asked, glancing over to it on my bed.

"Obviously," I rolled my eyes, puffing my cheeks out. "Just, distract me. Please." I begged, looking up at her.

"Oh, yeah of course. What have you been up to recently?" she asked, struggling for questions.

"Drinking, drinking, oh, and more drinking."

"Yeah, of course." she sighed, looking at me. "Are you going to keep being an asshole or actually accept my help?" 
I looked up at her. Her eyes were said yet angry, and her facial expression was almost exasperated.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." I panted, slowly being able to control my breathing. She started to do some breathing exercises with me, and finally, I began to breathe normally again.

"There. You're okay now," she smiled, watching me. "Maybe you should get some sleep, you have an appointment with us tomorrow remember." She said, helping my up. I wandered over to my bed, slightly dazed. I laid down and pulled the covers over me, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was gone.