Poetic Tragedy
Down Once More
Her mother’s house was empty when Victoria entered. She sighed with relief. She didn’t want to bear with her mom when she was feeling so weak. Jake had given her his phone number before leaving, in case she needed someone to talk to, as he put it. She went up to her room, closed her door and turned on the stereo, throwing her bag on the floor carelessly.
Everything looked the same way it did when she left. She went to sit on her bed, which was on the far corner of the room, and as she sat, she noticed the loose floor-board next to it slightly open. She moved to the floor and opened it all the way. Inside were the half full bottles of some prescription drugs she had used before, several razor blades, and a pencil case which held all the heroin she had left. There was also a sketchbook, with a wide collection of very disturbing drawings, which would send her to a mental hospital if discovered by anyone.
Victoria closed the loose floor-board and threw herself on the bed, feeling extremely cold and shaking violently. She closed her eyes, hoping for sleep to come, while her arms and legs hurt like she had run several miles. She fought herself for hours, knowing under the floor-board was all her heroin. If she took it, everything would go away. But she wanted a better life, one where she could actually do something worth it, but drugs were in the way and she knew it.
She was extremely nervous about seeing her mom again. She started to have difficulty breathing. She panicked. She threw herself on the floor and opened the floor-board, looking for Xanax XR. She had had panic attacks before, and that’s what they’d prescribed… of course she became addicted to it afterwards, and the dosage she was diagnosed wouldn’t work anymore.
She took out several pills once she found the right bottle and swallowed them dry. It didn’t take long for her to feel the effect of the drug in her system. She started feeling sleepy and noticed the pain of her limbs lessen gradually. She climbed the bed again and lay there, knowing she’d fall asleep soon.
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When she woke up, Victoria looked at the clock in the night table. Eight o-clock. She heard sounds downstairs. She knew it was time to face her mother. She heard someone coming upstairs and she got up from her bed quickly as she could and closed the loose floor-board. This was rather slow since the Xanax was still in her system. Her mother entered the room just as she got up.
“Hey mom…” said Victoria, not quite looking at her mother.
“So you decided to come back,” said her mother, eyeing her.
“Yeah, and I… wanted to talk to you about something,” she started. She would tell her about her addiction. It was her mother, she had to help her, right? She was at the verge of tears. She knew her mother would react badly, but she still hoped, as always. “I… I’m…” Victoria gathered all the courage she had left and said it quickly “I’m on drugs, mom.” She looked up at her mother, with pleading eyes.
She heard a sharp gasp and immediately after she was on the floor. She realized her mother had slapped her, since her cheek burnt, and she lost her balance. Her mother had started rambling about her father, friends, and about how she thought she had shown her to be mature and avoid those things.
“Actually, you never did, you were never there,” Victoria interrupted her mother, angry. “And you are the reason of all this!” She pulled up the sleeve of the black hoodie she was wearing, showing the scars in her arms. Her mother was at the door of the room, and as soon as she saw Victoria’s arm, she gasped in disgust and went out, slamming the door shut behind her.
Everything looked the same way it did when she left. She went to sit on her bed, which was on the far corner of the room, and as she sat, she noticed the loose floor-board next to it slightly open. She moved to the floor and opened it all the way. Inside were the half full bottles of some prescription drugs she had used before, several razor blades, and a pencil case which held all the heroin she had left. There was also a sketchbook, with a wide collection of very disturbing drawings, which would send her to a mental hospital if discovered by anyone.
Victoria closed the loose floor-board and threw herself on the bed, feeling extremely cold and shaking violently. She closed her eyes, hoping for sleep to come, while her arms and legs hurt like she had run several miles. She fought herself for hours, knowing under the floor-board was all her heroin. If she took it, everything would go away. But she wanted a better life, one where she could actually do something worth it, but drugs were in the way and she knew it.
She was extremely nervous about seeing her mom again. She started to have difficulty breathing. She panicked. She threw herself on the floor and opened the floor-board, looking for Xanax XR. She had had panic attacks before, and that’s what they’d prescribed… of course she became addicted to it afterwards, and the dosage she was diagnosed wouldn’t work anymore.
She took out several pills once she found the right bottle and swallowed them dry. It didn’t take long for her to feel the effect of the drug in her system. She started feeling sleepy and noticed the pain of her limbs lessen gradually. She climbed the bed again and lay there, knowing she’d fall asleep soon.
---
When she woke up, Victoria looked at the clock in the night table. Eight o-clock. She heard sounds downstairs. She knew it was time to face her mother. She heard someone coming upstairs and she got up from her bed quickly as she could and closed the loose floor-board. This was rather slow since the Xanax was still in her system. Her mother entered the room just as she got up.
“Hey mom…” said Victoria, not quite looking at her mother.
“So you decided to come back,” said her mother, eyeing her.
“Yeah, and I… wanted to talk to you about something,” she started. She would tell her about her addiction. It was her mother, she had to help her, right? She was at the verge of tears. She knew her mother would react badly, but she still hoped, as always. “I… I’m…” Victoria gathered all the courage she had left and said it quickly “I’m on drugs, mom.” She looked up at her mother, with pleading eyes.
She heard a sharp gasp and immediately after she was on the floor. She realized her mother had slapped her, since her cheek burnt, and she lost her balance. Her mother had started rambling about her father, friends, and about how she thought she had shown her to be mature and avoid those things.
“Actually, you never did, you were never there,” Victoria interrupted her mother, angry. “And you are the reason of all this!” She pulled up the sleeve of the black hoodie she was wearing, showing the scars in her arms. Her mother was at the door of the room, and as soon as she saw Victoria’s arm, she gasped in disgust and went out, slamming the door shut behind her.