Lines
“Just tell me this Doctor, suppose you really are a slave of the drug habit, is there any cure?”
I lay alone on a bench on the fringe of some park, wearing the same clothes as yesterday; a grey hoodie, shapeless, faded jeans and trainers with frayed laces. Around me the park was seemingly void of any life, I liked being here, the way the trees rustled to the the ominous tune of the wind, the way the glistening grass rolled down to the lake side, but most of all, I liked how here I could escape the disapproving gazes that seemed to endlessly pursue me. A few streets back I could hear the hoard of commuters fighting their way onto to the final train of the night, their yells piercing and horns blaring through the damp evening air. But the crowd meant nothing to me, I wasn’t a part of it, I never had been, …show more content…
Cocaine had been hard on my body. I’d tried to control my usage many times before, but too long without a fix felt like dying in every possible way; pain shooting through my bones, throwing up, chills deep within my skin, sleepless nights. It felt as if I was slowly drowning, and no matter how hard I tried too swim to the surface, I could never quite make it. Maybe things would be different if I had someone to talk too, someone besides him.
He was sitting on the ground about a metre in front of me, I wondered how long he had been there for. Staring at me with a kind of twisted smile plastered on his face, the way his lips curled up was almost unnatural, accentuating his bloodshot eyes and waxy, pale skin. He was dressed expensively in designer jeans and a soft leather jacket. I always questioned how he afforded such luxuries. His name was Adrian.
I met Adrian at a dark chapter in my life, as the troubles had piled up in my life, I found myself confiding in him more and more often. We didn’t speak much. We didn’t need
“Just tell me this Doctor, suppose you really are a slave of the drug habit, is there any cure?”
I lay alone on a bench on the fringe of some park, wearing the same clothes as yesterday; a grey hoodie, shapeless, faded jeans and trainers with frayed laces. Around me the park was seemingly void of any life, I liked being here, the way the trees rustled to the the ominous tune of the wind, the way the glistening grass rolled down to the lake side, but most of all, I liked how here I could escape the disapproving gazes that seemed to endlessly pursue me. A few streets back I could hear the hoard of commuters fighting their way onto to the final train of the night, their yells piercing and horns blaring through the damp evening air. But the crowd meant nothing to me, I wasn’t a part of it, I never had been, …show more content…
Cocaine had been hard on my body. I’d tried to control my usage many times before, but too long without a fix felt like dying in every possible way; pain shooting through my bones, throwing up, chills deep within my skin, sleepless nights. It felt as if I was slowly drowning, and no matter how hard I tried too swim to the surface, I could never quite make it. Maybe things would be different if I had someone to talk too, someone besides him.
He was sitting on the ground about a metre in front of me, I wondered how long he had been there for. Staring at me with a kind of twisted smile plastered on his face, the way his lips curled up was almost unnatural, accentuating his bloodshot eyes and waxy, pale skin. He was dressed expensively in designer jeans and a soft leather jacket. I always questioned how he afforded such luxuries. His name was Adrian.
I met Adrian at a dark chapter in my life, as the troubles had piled up in my life, I found myself confiding in him more and more often. We didn’t speak much. We didn’t need