Ritual

My heart is beating like a machine gun and my palms are sweating like its my first coed dance. All of this is due to the oncoming rush I know I will be experiencing. I fumble the keys as I try to unlock the front door. It's amazing I remembered to even lock it in my rush to leave. I make my way to the bathroom sink where I have a flat surface to lay my bent spoon. I pore the entire contents out and draw only fifteen units of water from the sink to dissolve the pile. I begin crushing the shards with the back end of the plunger and the sound becomes reminiscent of someone treading deep snow. It all dissolves and appears to be of the same consistency. I replace the plunger into the syringe and drop a piece of cigarette filter into the middle of the puddle to filter the draw. I, with shaking hands draw up the brew and flick out any pestilent bubbles. Palm up and stiff armed I hit the vein and a cloud of blood makes itself visible within the needle. I draw back till the tube is filled with crimson and I push it all forward. I cannot see straight. The ground begins to quake and I grab hold of the bathroom sink counter as flames work their way up my spinal column. I’m not going anywhere for a while.