Just to scratch the Itch

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Warning for drug usage and non-descriptive sex

She itched everywhere. It didn't matter how much she scratched, she still itched.

Submitted: March 13, 2013

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Submitted: March 13, 2013



***I did do some research on the Drug used in this story.... however it was written a while ago and I have never actually known anyone under it's unfluence so I apologise in advance for anything that doesn't seem realistic. I tried.... lol***


She itched everywhere. It didn't matter how much she scratched, she still itched. Her skin, her hair, her bones even. Everywhere. Was there no end to this torture? Over and over she raked her nails across her reddened body. Her mouth was dry no matter how much water she drank. She wanted to sleep, so badly she wanted to sleep but despite how tired she was she could barely close her eyes.
 It started with an innocent night out. With her friends. They had met up with someone and he gave them a drug that made them full of energy. Her and her friends spend the night partying. They danced and sang, never feeling tired. How could something that made them feel this good, be wrong? Her boyfriend had never gotten so much 'action' with her than after she took that drug. She could do more schoolwork; she worked longer shifts, doing harder work. People that had annoyed her before, people she usually started fights with didn't bother her as much. Nothing could bring her down. She had the energy for the extra work even though she rarely got any sleep. All she had to do was continue taking that little pill.
 She ran out after three weeks and she didn't sleep at all for five days. She had black marks under her eyes and her skin was pale. She snapped at everyone and couldn't concentrate on school or work. She locked herself in her room after the first day and refused to talk to her friends or boyfriend. She threw up all the time, and her head felt as if it was going to fall right off her shoulders. Her family worried. They took her to a doctor when she was awake for a full standard day. The doctor had her pee in a cup and took a sample of her blood. He recommended an Advil for the headaches and told her to even out her eating habits to prevent throwing up.
 Four days later her parents got a call to go in to talk to the doctor. They took her with them. The doctor had a serious look on his face; he sat them down in his office and pulled out some paperwork to show them. They read the scribbles and talked in a blur, she couldn't concentrate enough to actually hear them, and they sounded like a constant buzzing. After what seemed like hours of just buzzing her mother shook her to attention. She yelled at her, screaming that moms shouldn't butt into their daughter's lives all the time and she should stop bothering her. Her father looked at her sternly and she focused on the room of three people. The doctor told her what was wrong with her. Methylenedioxymethamphetamine. More commonly known as Ecstasy. The drugs were bad enough on their own, however the pills she and her friends had taken were mixed with LSD; making a psychedelic mixture. The doctor babbled on about certain treatments and consequences.
 The next few weeks were a blurred stream of colours and sounds. Nothing made sense and everything confused her. Why was she tired? Why was she sitting at home when she could be out dancing and partying like she had before? What was wrong?
 All she needed was that drug. If she could only take a little she would be better again. She needed it now that she didn't have it. Needed it, craved it, wanted it. She wouldn't stop until she got it.
 She went back to her friend’s house, their mother hesitated to let her in the door but that didn't matter. She got her friend to call that guy they had gotten the drugs off of; he was expecting her at a meeting place. The club they went to the first time.
 She found him easily enough, her mind registering a little better now that she had a focus, she wanted something and she was going to get it. Her life would get back on track, she would have friends again, and her boyfriend would see her again.
 He wouldn't give her the drugs without a price. Sex. He wanted to sleep with her. She begged him for a little bit, just a tiny bit to feel a little better. He gave in but said it would be extra. She didn't care just as long as she got what she was after.
 30 minutes later she went along with his touches, she almost wanted him to touch her, the very most intimate places, she couldn't get closer to him, and the clothes were in the way. Hurriedly she moaned out for him to take away the fabrics, and he complied quite eagerly. Their feverish touches and kisses were numbing and in the back of her mind she nearly silently wondered if it was worth it. That voice was quieted when he entered her, not giving her time to think, only feel.
 It was over in a few moments and the combined effects of the drug and sex had them both lying on the floor dozily. Her head spun and she strangely felt like standing up and dancing. She turned to him and wanted it to happen all over again.
 After Three more times in different rooms he gave her a larger supply than last time and made himself a mix of alcoholic drinks. She realized that she had only taken a tiny amount of the drug and she had felt this good. She wondered how much better she would feel if she took more. Quickly she consumed over half of the amount he had given her. She could see his eyes widen and he rushed over to her yelling. She couldn't understand what was wrong. He was getting closer and she didn't want to hear his complaints. She closed the bathroom door and locked it, his knocking getting father and father away. She leaned against the wall, completely taken over with floating feelings.
 She wasn't sure how long she sat there. She only knew that her good feelings were disrupted by this itching feeling. Her arms started to itch first, then her legs. Even her tongue started in on the itching craze. She lazily scratched at the tingling feeling but it never seemed to leave her body. She moved against the wall, bit on her tongue until she tasted the salty metal taste of blood, rubbed her legs hard together and dragged her nails into her skin. Soon a high pitched whistle began in her ears and she grabbed at her hair, trying to rip the sound out. Her eyes watered and she couldn't see straight. She could feel fingers running down her legs and belly, her mouth was on fire. She jumped up and started the water in the tub, all the while scratching at her skin. She tried to run towards to the door, to get help, but she tripped and fell to the floor, hitting her head on the toilet. She twitched and tried to move her body, all she got was the fingers running all over her skin, reaching into her mouth and eyes, touching her everywhere. She couldn't hear the whistle and she closed her eyes, wanting to sleep. Vaguely she heard someone yelling, and a few seconds later someone else was lifting her. She heard a wailing sound and felt the whole world shake, before all was silent.
 The itching had finally stopped.


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