Page 73 of The Addict

Crash

NOAH

Ilaid on top of my bed, the covers unrolled because of the room’s temperature. Sweat trickled off my face. I didn’t feel like I was in my body anymore. I was dead.

Or close to it.

I was burning alive from the inside, even though the temperature in the room was a constant seventy degrees. A thirst crept into my throat, an itch that begged to be quenched. I shakily grasped the bottle of water near my bedside table, chugging down the liquid faster than my body would allow. I gagged, vomiting the fluid back up and onto the floor. I sucked air in through my nostrils. My fingers drummed to an unknown beat. Despite my intense search of the room, I knew I wouldn’t be able to find what my body craved. I’d have to seek it out elsewhere.

How many days had it been? Only two? Three?

I couldn’t even keep track anymore.

I longed to be high, floating and falling through my problems, instant pleasure and lifetime regret simultaneously bringing me to ecstasy.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Where was it?

Gone.

I made an effort to calm my senses and go to sleep, but it was impossible. Although I was exhausted, my body seemed wired, electricity coursing through my blood to the point where I couldn’t sit still. I had to get up. I paced the room. My brain was speaking to me in a language only I could comprehend. I was slowly dying, this much was certain. With each minute my panic set in deeper, and air was rapidly leaving the room. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to breathe at all.

You need some.

I stood from my bed, sweat pooled underneath my underarms and along my throat. I wiped it vigorously.

Now.

Go and get some.

You cannot survive without it.

The darkness of the hallway consumed me as I opened the door to my room. My father’s laughter existed there, returning to my ears. For a moment, I was frozen in place, unable to proceed forward.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Did you feel that?

It hurt so badly. My chest was cramping. My stomach lurched again, but I held down the vomit this time.

Your pain is returning.

I took one shaky step into the abyss.

Don’t you want to lose yourself? It feels so good, doesn’t it? Remember how nice that first hit feels? A little bump maybe? Something light.

Six more steps. I glided down the stairs. I could tell from the open window that it was dark outside, late. This wouldn’t be a problem, I was sure.

You know where to go.

The front door was finally in my line of sight, and I reached for it, only to have my hand caught in mid-air by Damian.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he questioned.