(Trigger Warning)

Loud buzz, the alarm just went off. I open my eyes and slam the alarm clock with urgency.

I am so freaking tired! I lay in bed with my eyes open, just staring into the ceiling, contemplating my life choices.

“It has to end, I can’t go on like this. Otherwise, it will end me.”, the choice is simple and obvious. At least, for most people it would be.

“How did I end here?!”, tears running down my face, I am shaking. That nauseating feeling in my stomach again. The sheets are soaked in sweat and my body aches like crazy.

Ugh, the stench…the stench in the room is horrific. It’s like something died in here. The light is trying to fight its way in through the dark curtains covering the windows. Specks of dust visible in the rays, floating around…wasting.

I want to get up, I am trying. My arms throb as I attempt to sit up. Skinny, bruised twigs covered in tiny dark dots. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. “Fuck! Fuck…fuuuuuck!”, I yell out, as if that’s going to make a difference. Dry chipped lips, cheeks sinking into my pale face, no spark in my eyes…just hollow space.

And there it is, as I turn my head to the right I see my best friend, my companion, my everything…my death sentence. The needle is staring at me, calling to me…as it has been for the last 2 years.

“My hero”, I whisper, grin on my face, I can feel the tears sliding down my face.

“My HEROin”, and I reach…one last time…

Disclaimer: This is all fiction, I don’t struggle with drug addiction.

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