Born Of Mafia Blood

The People You Care About

--Dominic--

In karate, they taught us that a calm mind is one of the greatest tools one could possess. Unfortunately, I have always struggled with this. I have never truly been in control of my mind. And, now I see that more than ever. 

To have a calm mind, one must accept strain and shock without being overwhelmed. I've always tried to do this, and yet all I've ever managed was to have my mind completely collapse in on itself. So many times has this happened. 

And, yet, I never learn. I never improve. I never get stronger.

It hurts. It's frustrating. So, I lie to myself. I lie and believe it until I collapse once again.

My conscious was fading in and out as the dull, numbing buzz of my head finally took its toll on how much I could ignore. The faint ache and throb that accompanied the fuzzy static, lulled me into a groggy stir. Heavy eyes and an unfocused mess of thoughts as light breached my vision.

Where was I again?

As my senses began to stimulate awake, it became increasingly noticeable how unpleasant my body felt right now. The nauseous churn of my stomach; sticky sweat glazing my skin, and a dry and crusty mouth. I felt like a mess.

A sputtering, choked cough tickled my chest before I realised how suffocated I felt. Immediately, my body rolled onto its right and hacked out a violent fit of wet coughs, some substance shooting back up my throat and into my mouth as I continued. Phlegm? No, it didn't feel like it.

I spat it out onto the floor and revolted at its tangy taste and foul texture. The substance splotched against white tiles. I was in my bathroom?  I observed the thing that came out of my mouth. A pale and sickly brown, filled with some small lumps. Vomit?

And, just as I pictured it, a putrid smell that had been hanging in the air this entire time, filled my nose, instantly jerking my hand up to cover it. I whipped my head over in alarm. Amidst my dopey state, the whole room swirled around in disorientation but I still managed to catch my gaze over to the source of the stench.

Vomit was splattered all over the toilet bowl, dripping down its sides and painting the seat in an awfully sickening image I didn't want to keep in my mind. It grumbled my stomach in disgust all over again.

I groaned and rubbed my pounding head. Did I throw up? Why? What happened again?

With shaky knees and a weak balance, I lugged myself up with the assisted grip of the edge of the sink counter. As I stood, I was given another view into the stew of toilet water and vomit inside the actual bowl, crinkling my eyes up in revulsion. I shifted them away to the reflection cast in my bathroom mirror instead. The face I saw was pale and haggard. It was like I was staring back at a ghost; an empty husk, vacant of any life. There was no light in the shaded blue of my eyes.

What had I...?

My sluggish gaze fell onto several packets of pills by the corner of the counter. Panadol. A whole lot of them had been popped out.

Huh...

Ah...I remember now...

The echo of laughter took me back into a memory...

"Oh! Open wide! It's almost in!" Cackles sounded through the air and my skin flared up with goosebumps of disgust. Please, stop this already. I can't take it anymore! I got a disciplining punch to the nose when my struggle continued. My head jerked from side to side in pleading defiance. It was painful, sending throbs of agony fizzling throughout my face. It was hard to breathe. My nose was filling up with blood again. Nevertheless, I still kicked and flailed about, fighting for the freedom of my restrained limbs. The redhead in front of me clicked his tongue in annoyance and barked at his friends. "Oi! Hold him tighter, damn it! How hard can it fucking be?!"