Post by Lady Tatsh on Jul 17, 2008 2:18:58 GMT -6
Warnings: Definite drug-use, one curse word
Summary: Breaking habits is tough, getting off Horse is another.
Slight hinted slash, if you squint and turn your head 27 degrees to your left... or was it my left?
Breaking
By J Bentley
The young man shivered as the other watched, both wearing negative expressions; The younger of deep helplessness and disdain for his own being, knowing that the other, with agony written on his face, could not be helped.
I'm doing this... for him... He kept telling himself. His friend cried and shook, curled into a corner of the chilly bathroom. His fever was apparent, and the contents of his stomach had long since been flushed down the toilet. I'm doing this for him... The man chanted this to himself, over and over, as if a mantra to keep himself from giving up and giving his friend what he so desperately begged for only hours before.
No good Chase... I tossed all the needles...The younger man sat on the edge of the tub. He promised his friend that he'd stand guard over him while he rode this out. Watch him and stop him if he tried anything stupid. The younger sipped more of his red-bull to stay awake. How many hours now? Six? Eight? There wasn't a clock in the bathroom, the only sign of the outside world a small smoked glass window.
The elder rose from his spot in the corner and staggered to the toilet to dry heave. He had nothing left in his system to reject. He felt miserable and cold, and wanted nothing more than to shrivel and die. The only brief comfort came from his friend gently rubbing his quivering sore back. His body ached and it felt like his blood was screaming to escape from it's confines of his vessels. The younger helped him from the toilet when he was sure that the elder was done gagging. The elder cried out as another wave of pain hit him and he crumpled to the floor, nearly bringing his comrade with him. "Please... Please... Just a little bit... please!!" The younger silently shook his head, he couldn't bring to words how horrible he was feeling. Granted, his friend was experiencing a hundred times the hell he was, he still felt somewhat responsible.
"Danny, I need you to do something for me."
Danny looked up from his book at his friend, whom had a look of fierce determination. A glance at his arm denoted that he had just finished shooting up. His speech showed it as well.
"What is it Chase?" Danny knew never to disagree with Chase after he was high. It got scary and usually ended up with him on the floor bleeding.
With a deep breath Chase spoke.
"The needles in the drawer. Break them and throw them out."
Danny stared in disbelief, "W-what?" Chase only took another deep breath, as if to assure his resolve to himself.
"The smack is under my mattress. Get rid of that too." Danny stood up to stare up at Chase's bloodshot eyes. He was about to protest when Chase silenced him with a finger. "I'm done Danny. I need you to lock me in the bathroom and keep an eye on me til it blows over."
"But Chase it'll---!" Silence again by the finger and a meaningful look, Danny could only stare at the deep blue.
"No matter how much I scream and beg, don't give it to me. Take everything out of the bathroom too, just to be safe." Danny was surprised at how coherent Chase was even when he was high. He could only nod.
"Do this for me, please."
Danny sighed softly as he sat on the edge of the tub. Chase had crawled back to his corner and began rocking back and forth in a fetal position. He wanted to cry, seeing Chase like this. He told him, over and over, to not use. He was glad that he chose to stop, but genuinely scared that his best friend would die like this.
Danny reached into the tub for the bottles of water he had stowed there for emergency use. Chase had vomited many times now, and he was sweating... he was bound to be dehydrated. Untwisting the cap, he walked over to his friend and held the open bottle to him. Chase failed to notice, lost in his own world of pain and suffering. Danny frowned and knelt next to him. "Chase... you need to drink something or you'll die before this is over." He said as calmly as he could, not sure how calm he sounded to anyone else though. Chase continued to shake, remaining unresponsive. Danny patted his matted black hair and held the bottle in his field of vision.
"Danny... please... for the love of God!" Chase looked up at his friend, eyes wide and filled with need. He gripped his friend's shoulders with every ounce of his strength. The look... it broke his heart to see his childhood friend like this, a shaken mess over something so trivial.. yet so deadly.
"You made me promise, Chase. You told me you wanted to stop so you could live, and if you want to live you better drink this god damn water!" Danny was surprised at his own anger. He wasn't trying to be angry, he was just frustrated and scared. Frustrated that no matter how many times he asked Chase to stop, he never did. Scared that his best friend since the third grade may die because he never took it upon himself to stop him before.
Danny sighed at Chase's wide-eyed reaction and pulled his friend closer, trying to warm him with his own body. Chase continued to shake, scratching at his skin so hard it was beginning to bleed. Danny smacked the hands away and focused on holding the water gently to Chase's parched lips. He drank most of the water, some of his quivering muscles began to calm. His constant shivering gradually turned to convulsing sobs.
Although Chase was taller than him, Danny cradled him close and rocked him. Softly he hummed a melody, trying to ease Chase into sleep or at least relax him even a little. Danny felt it comforting that he could help his friend through this self-brought nightmare and smiled lightly when Chase's eyes slipped close.
It was unknown to him how long they slept. The sky had turned orange when Danny woke up. At first he panicked, knowing he was supposed to stay awake and watch after Chase, but the anxiety left him as he felt him stir in his arms. Danny reached for the half full water bottle and tipped it to the other's mouth. Chase sipped the water and opened his eyes drowsily.
"Danny...?"
Danny nodded and pat his mass of black spikes. The knowing smile he gave proved to Chase that he had kept his promise.
"...Thank you."
Okay, before you go jumping to conclusions, I'll answer a few things.
~Chase was using Heroin, and thus when he tried to quit he suffered withdrawal.
~I am aware that Heroin withdrawal lasts more than I depicted in this story, but I didn't want to write Chase's pain and suffering for a week. I'm cruel, but not that cruel!
~I do not use, nor have I ever used, any sort of drug. This story was not meant to prompt any of you to use drugs, it was meant to show how painful getting off the drug is.
~Please note using any substance in excess is dangerous and more often than not leads to death.
~QUITTING COLD TURKEY IS A BAD IDEA! Chase chose this way for his pride. It is recommended that if you have an addiction to seek help from professionals as opposed to trying to quit on your own.
Summary: Breaking habits is tough, getting off Horse is another.
Slight hinted slash, if you squint and turn your head 27 degrees to your left... or was it my left?
Breaking
By J Bentley
The young man shivered as the other watched, both wearing negative expressions; The younger of deep helplessness and disdain for his own being, knowing that the other, with agony written on his face, could not be helped.
I'm doing this... for him... He kept telling himself. His friend cried and shook, curled into a corner of the chilly bathroom. His fever was apparent, and the contents of his stomach had long since been flushed down the toilet. I'm doing this for him... The man chanted this to himself, over and over, as if a mantra to keep himself from giving up and giving his friend what he so desperately begged for only hours before.
No good Chase... I tossed all the needles...The younger man sat on the edge of the tub. He promised his friend that he'd stand guard over him while he rode this out. Watch him and stop him if he tried anything stupid. The younger sipped more of his red-bull to stay awake. How many hours now? Six? Eight? There wasn't a clock in the bathroom, the only sign of the outside world a small smoked glass window.
The elder rose from his spot in the corner and staggered to the toilet to dry heave. He had nothing left in his system to reject. He felt miserable and cold, and wanted nothing more than to shrivel and die. The only brief comfort came from his friend gently rubbing his quivering sore back. His body ached and it felt like his blood was screaming to escape from it's confines of his vessels. The younger helped him from the toilet when he was sure that the elder was done gagging. The elder cried out as another wave of pain hit him and he crumpled to the floor, nearly bringing his comrade with him. "Please... Please... Just a little bit... please!!" The younger silently shook his head, he couldn't bring to words how horrible he was feeling. Granted, his friend was experiencing a hundred times the hell he was, he still felt somewhat responsible.
"Danny, I need you to do something for me."
Danny looked up from his book at his friend, whom had a look of fierce determination. A glance at his arm denoted that he had just finished shooting up. His speech showed it as well.
"What is it Chase?" Danny knew never to disagree with Chase after he was high. It got scary and usually ended up with him on the floor bleeding.
With a deep breath Chase spoke.
"The needles in the drawer. Break them and throw them out."
Danny stared in disbelief, "W-what?" Chase only took another deep breath, as if to assure his resolve to himself.
"The smack is under my mattress. Get rid of that too." Danny stood up to stare up at Chase's bloodshot eyes. He was about to protest when Chase silenced him with a finger. "I'm done Danny. I need you to lock me in the bathroom and keep an eye on me til it blows over."
"But Chase it'll---!" Silence again by the finger and a meaningful look, Danny could only stare at the deep blue.
"No matter how much I scream and beg, don't give it to me. Take everything out of the bathroom too, just to be safe." Danny was surprised at how coherent Chase was even when he was high. He could only nod.
"Do this for me, please."
Danny sighed softly as he sat on the edge of the tub. Chase had crawled back to his corner and began rocking back and forth in a fetal position. He wanted to cry, seeing Chase like this. He told him, over and over, to not use. He was glad that he chose to stop, but genuinely scared that his best friend would die like this.
Danny reached into the tub for the bottles of water he had stowed there for emergency use. Chase had vomited many times now, and he was sweating... he was bound to be dehydrated. Untwisting the cap, he walked over to his friend and held the open bottle to him. Chase failed to notice, lost in his own world of pain and suffering. Danny frowned and knelt next to him. "Chase... you need to drink something or you'll die before this is over." He said as calmly as he could, not sure how calm he sounded to anyone else though. Chase continued to shake, remaining unresponsive. Danny patted his matted black hair and held the bottle in his field of vision.
"Danny... please... for the love of God!" Chase looked up at his friend, eyes wide and filled with need. He gripped his friend's shoulders with every ounce of his strength. The look... it broke his heart to see his childhood friend like this, a shaken mess over something so trivial.. yet so deadly.
"You made me promise, Chase. You told me you wanted to stop so you could live, and if you want to live you better drink this god damn water!" Danny was surprised at his own anger. He wasn't trying to be angry, he was just frustrated and scared. Frustrated that no matter how many times he asked Chase to stop, he never did. Scared that his best friend since the third grade may die because he never took it upon himself to stop him before.
Danny sighed at Chase's wide-eyed reaction and pulled his friend closer, trying to warm him with his own body. Chase continued to shake, scratching at his skin so hard it was beginning to bleed. Danny smacked the hands away and focused on holding the water gently to Chase's parched lips. He drank most of the water, some of his quivering muscles began to calm. His constant shivering gradually turned to convulsing sobs.
Although Chase was taller than him, Danny cradled him close and rocked him. Softly he hummed a melody, trying to ease Chase into sleep or at least relax him even a little. Danny felt it comforting that he could help his friend through this self-brought nightmare and smiled lightly when Chase's eyes slipped close.
It was unknown to him how long they slept. The sky had turned orange when Danny woke up. At first he panicked, knowing he was supposed to stay awake and watch after Chase, but the anxiety left him as he felt him stir in his arms. Danny reached for the half full water bottle and tipped it to the other's mouth. Chase sipped the water and opened his eyes drowsily.
"Danny...?"
Danny nodded and pat his mass of black spikes. The knowing smile he gave proved to Chase that he had kept his promise.
"...Thank you."
Okay, before you go jumping to conclusions, I'll answer a few things.
~Chase was using Heroin, and thus when he tried to quit he suffered withdrawal.
~I am aware that Heroin withdrawal lasts more than I depicted in this story, but I didn't want to write Chase's pain and suffering for a week. I'm cruel, but not that cruel!
~I do not use, nor have I ever used, any sort of drug. This story was not meant to prompt any of you to use drugs, it was meant to show how painful getting off the drug is.
~Please note using any substance in excess is dangerous and more often than not leads to death.
~QUITTING COLD TURKEY IS A BAD IDEA! Chase chose this way for his pride. It is recommended that if you have an addiction to seek help from professionals as opposed to trying to quit on your own.