Addict {h.s}

three

  I woke up to the annoying, repetitive sound of my alarm clock that I don't remember setting. Groaning, I reached over to grab it and turned it off. I pulled my covers further up and over my face as I buried my head further into my pillows. I sighed to myself as I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to block out the sunlight that flooded my room. I lifted my head from my pillow as I scanned my room. My inhaler was on the floor, and on my cabinet next to my bed was a note.

Harry,
I hope you slept well and that you're feeling better. You crashed out so I hope you don't mind me leaving this note and locking your house up for you.
See you today at 2pm for your first session. I look forward to it.
        - Amber

  As I read the letter, all the horrible memories from last night came flooding back to me. Did I really call over a girl I had met once to help me when I was having a panic attack? How pathetic. I angrily screwed up the note and threw it onto the floor. I reached down to find a can half full of alcohol, and contently poured the old liquid down my throat. I gasped in that extra way people tend to do after having a fizzy drink, and dropped the can back onto the floor where it originally lay. 

-----

  I wandered back down the familiar alley, surprised I was still alive from my trip down here last time as no axe-wielding murderers decided to jump out of the shadows and hack me to pieces. I walked back into the crumbling building, and straight past the hunched old woman. I wonder what she does all day on that computer. The place seems to be completely abandoned? She's probably playing some stupid game or emailing all her long lost relatives. I walked back down the corridor of death and got to the familiar room of 105, once again, with it's door slightly ajar and light flooding the room. Just as I was about to knock, I heard some mumbled voices coming from the room. I stood just round the corner out of sight.

"You went to his apartment? What were you thinking!" A hushed, yet loud voice spoke.

"I gave him my number to use in an emergency," another hushed voice spoke, yet more calm. "And it was an emergency."

  I could hear the annoyance in the sigh that filled the corridor. I bit my lip as I continued to listen to the continuous whispering. I looked at my phone. 2pm. I rolled my eyes, and braced myself for what I was about to enter into, and I knocked on the door.

  As I entered I was greeted by a rather startled face, followed by a gasp, then a smile. Not a nice smile, though. No, it was one of those forced ones where you'd rather they just stayed as they were. Especially as this smile came from Jane who showed off her (very few) teeth which were rotten and brown. I winced at the sight, barely being able to tear my eyes away from the poor excuse that were her teeth.

"Harry! Hello darling, come on in. Take a seat, take a seat," she rushed, almost embarrassed from her previous conversation I had overheard. I just smiled awkwardly and sat on the edge of the bed I was laid on only a handful of hours ago. "How have you been feeling?" She questioned, perching herself on the edge of the chair that she had moved so she was sat in front of me.

"Okay," I said, looking around the room. I heard two voices in here, but there was only one person I could see. Confused, I looked over my shoulder at the seats behind me. Nothing. I spun my head back to Jane, who was looking at me with harsh eyes. "Yeah. Okay."

"She's not here." was all she said. She said it with no emotion, no tone. Her voice was cold and harsh as her eyes locked with mine. I could feel my heart begin to beat faster in my chest.

"So, I'm going to begin by asking you a few questions about yourself." She snapped out of it, that horrid fake smile plastered back on her face and her posture completely relaxed. I fiddled with my fingers whilst straining my eyes to try and read what she had written on her mouldy clipboard. 

  She began asking me questions about my personal life and habits. Most were simple yes or no questions, but others required longer, more detailed answers which I hated. I hated talking. The sound of my own voice made me want to gag, not only that, it was an effort to talk. Talking require energy, and surprisingly, I had none. After what felt like three thousand questions, I had just turned to nodding and shaking my head.

"Why did this addiction start?"

"I don't know. No reason, really." I mumbled. She shook her head and sighed, clearly dissatisfied with my answer.

"Addictions don't just happen out of the blue. There must have been something that made you have that first shot of heroin or first can of beer." She stated, as if it were obvious. I just shrugged, wanting this conversation to be over. She sighed once more, putting her clipboard down.

"How are you feeling after last night then, Harry?"

My heart sank a little as I realised that Amber must've told her every little detail. But then I suppose that is her job.

"Okay, thanks." I said, staring at my fingers.

"She is not here for your entertainment. Do not keep texting or ringing her for the smallest of inconveniences, Harry. She is not a toy, she is not an object. Leave her alone and just let her do her job." She spat suddenly, making me jump slightly. There was no mention of a name, yet I knew exactly who she was talking about.

  My eyes diverted to the door I had entered in, and standing in the doorway was, of course, Amber. She had a sympathetic smile on her face, which confused me. Why is she smiling? Was this her plan? I just simply nodded once more, gathered my jacket up in my arms and walked straight out, pushing past Amber without even giving her a backwards glance, and out the door I went.

-----

  I sat in my local bar, staring into my drink. My arms were folded on the bar, my ankles crossed underneath. My local was quite small, which is exactly why I liked it. Not many people came in here, meaning I was never bothered. 

  I sat thinking all of this was a bad idea. This rehabilitation centre obviously wasn't the one for me. In fact, I felt more abused in that centre than I did by myself in my own home. I should just go home and look up some more and perhaps then i'll get some actual help. I took occasional sips from my beer - my fifth beer, actually. The muffled sound of the music coming out of the 10 year old stereo system was the only noise in this bar. Apart from the loud thoughts screaming at me in my head. I closed my eyes, focusing on what they were yelling, what advice I was tying to give myself.

  I was dragged out of my thoughts by a gentle hand on my shoulder which made my whole body jolt as I spun my head around.

"Harry? Hey, uh. Sorry if this is a bit weird. I saw you come in here when you left earlier. Just wanted to check you were okay?" She looked down at me, a slight genuine smile on her face.

"Why would you care? You're not here for my entertainment." I mumbled, diverting my eyes back to my drink.

"I know, about that, I-"

"Go home," I said, a little louder this time, still not taking my eyes off of my drink. "I don't want you here. Go home." I repeated.

  And with that, I was once again, alone.