Flash fiction in the mind of an addict trying not to give in. |
It starts in the back of her head; almost like an engine turning over on a cold night. In coughs and fits, the pressure of that dark need, she feels building inside. She starts to run. If she runs, it can't catch her. It won't gain control. She needs to get away. She can’t give it control. Her feet pound against the crumbling sidewalk as she struggles within herself. Her chest is burning, but she can’t get away fast enough. The torrid desire is there, pressing in on her, slowly stealing away her will. She reaches the front door, hurriedly letting herself in, and locking it behind her as if a door could stop the sinking feeling from seizing her completely. She hurries into the bathroom to splash cool water on her face; she still has control, she tells herself. Water drips from her face as she looks up into the mirror, she can see the dark deception of the rabbit hole waiting for her. She can see hunger waiting behind hollow eyes, ready to jump out and attack. She stumbles back from the image, reaching for the yellowed cracked tile wall behind her. She tries desperately the breathing technique she learned to calm her, deep shallow breaths. It is too late, she can feel the burn in her belly; the yearning. Her hands jerk up to her head, her hair, she's fidgeting, trying to not give in. Not again. Not this time. Both hands grasp her hair, she pulls with all her might, letting out a guttural yell as she slowly slides down the wall and drops down onto her knees. Her whole body tingles as the itch begins in her hands. Her palms begin to sweat as she rubs them back and forth against her faded jeans. Rocking to and fro, she rubs her legs she feels wave after wave descending on her. Waves of want. Waves of need. Her breathing is jagged now as she feels the first spot of tears. She knows she needs to fight this but her body is burning with desire. It is just a matter of time before she gives in. It is so much easier to give in. |