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a story of a heroin addict


Submitted:Apr 28, 2014    Reads: 35    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


I wake up in the alley behind the bar I found last night by what I judge to be near 5 or 6 in the afternoon, then I have a small sarcastic chuckle. I haven't had a way of being sure what time it is for at least a year now…I think it's been a year. Maybe if you'd stop buying Sin you'd have money to get a watch or a calendar I thought to myself. Sin, that's what I've always called it never heroin, smack, tar, skag, or dope. Those names made me feel worse about it, guilty almost.

I don't have time to think clearly for long as the withdrawals hit and hit hard. First the nausea everything about my stomach wants to be on the outside of me, flipping and turning in rage. Then the shakes my bodies freezing but at the same time my entirety is drenched in sweat accompanied with the Goosebumps holding my hair on end. My veins begin screaming pleas of satisfaction, my body of relief, and my soul of guilt.

I need it. I need my sin. This will be my last time, I swear it will I think to myself. I begin making my way down the street crowded by faces of people who have lives and work and a reason to live. I bump into some stranger or another, put on my heartiest smile and overly apologize. After assuring me it was alright and no harm was done he walked off. No longer in possession of his wallet. No longer in possession of the 40 bucks. This much money is enough to buy me at least a stamp. 100 milligrams. That's all I need just a stamp.

A while later after something I'm not proud of or in a hurry to recall I ended up in the possession of an ounce. Twenty-eight grams. Enough to last me quite a long time. I tie off the vein, pull back blood rushes in, I push the plunger slowly, I want this to last.

Twenty minutes, I still haven't felt what I'm looking for so I shoot up a little more of my sin.

Thirty minutes, just a little more.

Fifty minutes, I've lost all sense of reality the best way to describe this high is the feeling you get when you lay back after an orgasm, but of higher intensity and of no sexual origin. I have no reason to ever have worried about anything in my life ever. Everything is simply euphoric. I doze off into a dream of beautiful things everything is lucid and in control so perfect warm and such a rush. A feeling rivaled by none I'm at home with my and dad again playing hacky sack with my brother again and fireflies surround us. This is the way I wanted to live. But I was so scared of everything I just kept praying it would all go away and look at me now. My families alive again. I'm happy.

I wake up in a jolt to my feet. Bad move, this upsets my stomach into a wretch of disapproval I fall to my knees vomiting. I can't help myself but to fall on my side in a fetal position I'm in more pain than I ever imagined humanly possible. I need my sin now more than ever I reach for my needle oh god please….please…

Then the most euphoric feeling ever came about me. I felt nothing I was numb. But not the numb where you sat down to long or the numb you get from a dentist visit. This was a good numb…an embracing numb. This was relief from my sin. This was death.





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