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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
How my life was ruined by NZ17

Submitted: December 09, 2013

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Submitted: December 09, 2013




Dear, humble reader,

In 2020, a new revolution started. Some called it fantastic and ushering in of a new era. Other called it the end of civilization. It all depends on who you talk to.
I called it fantastic and the end of civilization. 
It all started in New York. It started in the underbelly of crime and shit of the city and worked its way to the officials in power. It only grew from there. 
You, the humble reader might be confused as to what this revolution is. You might think it was a  change in economic system. You would be wrong. You might think a new leader emerged and took over the world. To that. You would also be wrong. It was called NZ17.
NZ17 changed the face of the world when it was created in that sorry excuse for a lab in New York. It was a drug created by splicing all forms of drugs together. I have no idea what there were. Ask the people who made it. It was revolutionary. It made drugs like cocaine, crack, heroin, and a myriad of other drugs null and void. That made the government happy. For a while. 
After People found out about it, everyone used it. They loved the effects of the drug. Instead of making people drool and lose consciousness and die. Its effect was different from all drugs. It gave both men and women the feeling of an orgasm. 
NZ17 gave men and women both the feelings of a sexual orgasm. The drugs was either taken orally or injected. The rich tools pills, whereas, the rest of us injected it into our withered bodies. 
Once taken, the user would feel the effects within one to five minutes. The effects would last for thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of bliss. Thirty minutes of heaven.
I remember my first experience with NZ17. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was stressed out from work and my wife. We hadn't fucked in forever. I knew about NZ17 for a while, but I refused to take it, until one day, I had had enough of life and needed to escape.
My friend, Jeff, sold NZ17. It wasn't illegal back then. I bought one pill. I drove back to my apartment, went to my bathroom, locked the door, and took the pill. And waited. And waited. And waited. I was about to leave until the effects hit. 
Oh humble reader, you will never understand the feeling of NZ17, the government made sure if that. You make jack off and think that 5 seconds of an orgasm was worth the trouble, but thirty minutes! Oh, heaven could not be better!
Then the effect ended. I was in the bathroom and was contorted in to a weird pose that cramped every muscle in body. I looked down at my pants and saw that I came all over myself. I felt incomplete after the effect where over. I need another hit. 
Right then, I joined the masses of addicts who where looking for one more hit of NZ17. I found Jeff and asked if he had another pill. He said he didn't. He lied. He had thousands stashed away, for his use only. I left that day discouraged and empty inside. 
I saw my wife that night where, again we fought. She was pissed at me for some reason, but all I could think about was getting my hands on more NZ17. I left. I was sick of all the fighting. I left to go to Jeff's house. 
Once there, I saw that it was destroyed. Someone or a mob found out about his private supply. I looked around and saw that Jeff had been killed. Shot through the head. Quick death. Easy. I would have been in shock but I was in desperate need of a fix, so I searched his home and found his supply. Thousands upon thousands of NZ17 pills. Pills, not the shitty needles that the poor used, but pills! I was elated and celebrated by having another pill. Ah heaven. For a while at least.
After two months of using NZ17, I was halfway though my supply. I had been taking ten in one sitting trying to get the feeling of my first experience. I was a mess. I don't think I had bathed since the day Jeff died. I was awful. But at least I had my drugs. Ya great life
I was out of NZ17 with six months of Jeff's death. In that time, my wife left me, I was unemployed, and lived with other addicts. My life was shit and I started to feel the withdrawal symptoms.
The withdrawal symptoms for NZ17 where different than that other drugs like meth, Coc, and heroin. Instead of feeling like death, you felt empty and hollow inside. Like nothing mattered in the world. Sex and jacking off did nothing anymore. I felt nothing anywhere. My balls had turned, literally, to steel. 
Once the government found out about NZ17 and how it's population was being effected, they rounded us up like cattle and sent us to rehab centers. They didn't work. 
They got us off the drug NZ17, but at the cost of feeling to our private parts. After I left, I could not feel my penis. I literally could be punched in the balls and not feel it. I still can't for that matter. 
The government took advantage if this situation. They now have a population that cannot feel sex. They have a bland, vanilla community and have complete control over us. 
Not me. I refuse to be under there rule. Beside, what the pint of living without feeling. So as my last act of defiance, I raise my pistol to my head and as I close my letter, I will pull the trigger and leave this cruel world. Who knows? Maybe hell is better than this. At least I'll have feeling. So Good bye cruel world. I'm glad I left ya.


Who cares Ill be anyway

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