Veins

His mind was already into the depths of euphoria. Psychologically he was in a quarrel, an uproar mixture of anxiety and aggression. Amphetamines were already in his system causing his dilated eyes to turn into a bloodshot red. His skin was cold and covered in sweat. He was shaky and breathing as if he’d just ran a mile and his mouth, dry as a desert. He wasn’t sure how many of those white pills he had swallowed but he knew it was more than enough.

Although he was without intellect he still felt a sense of alertness that he enjoyed. Fast highs always did this to him, but had the affect of paranoia that sometimes he wasn’t able to escape. The world was always out to get him, everything around him carried a sense of suspicion and distrust, but he never let it ruin his high. Nothing could interfere with him feeling sky high.

Unsure of how he got there, he sat on his bathroom floor lit only by candle light with shaky hands a bent silver spoon in one hand and a blue lighter in the other. He held the lighter close to the bottom of the spoon and watched as the snow, white, powered substance mixed with a concoction of baking soda and water, dissolved into a liquid. A sly smile came to his lips. His mouth was nearly watering; his eyes were almost sparkling as he looked at the now liquid base of crack cocaine.

Even with blurry vision he could tell that this was more than his average dose, he almost had a second thought that maybe he should lessen his amount, but then he remembered what he had sacrificed. The rent that wasn’t paid, the lights that remained off and the fridge that was left empty; he couldn’t let this go to waste. It wasn’t worth it. Money had been spent and he was going to put use it to it’s full potential.

Excitedly, he dug inside of his pocket for a pharmaceutical syringe that he had stolen, and managed to keep his favorite drug steady in his other hand. Already ready for insertion he carefully, he gripped the syringe by the barrel and pulled back the plunger and then pushed it back down and watched as it sucked up the liquid from the spoon in an instant. He looked at the amount of the liquid he had filled in the syringe, he shuddered slightly, but smiled none the less.

He sloppy whipped his forehead that was covered with his matted dark hair, then picked up his tattered belt that lay beside him, and strapped it to his upper left arm past his elbow; he pulled the slack of the belt until he felt that it was tight enough, he latched the prong into a man made hole, and felt as his arm began to lose circulation. The blood was beginning to be cut off and he could slightly being to feel it go numb, he knew it was time.

He lifted the syringe to his arm with and with an unsteady hand; he injected himself with the needle in his fragile, small vein. He pressed the plunger and was ready to be induced with a high that knew would take him to new heights. He knew he had to wait, he knew it never went into effect right away; not for him anyway. He was anxious, and jittery and ready to feel like a man. When the substance was fully injected he let the syringe fall to the floor.

His arm was still latched with the belt and his arm was turning different shades of greens and reds, and then like a wave, it happened. He was washed over with a nearly overwhelming exhilaration of power. The feeling of joy was blossoming inside him, all the way to his core; to the dopamine in his brain that caused elation to pump through his blood and veins.

He knew it wouldn’t last long, in ten minutes, he knew he was headed for a nosedive crash of a ruptured mind. He compared this to winning the lottery mixed with having the world’s best orgasm, but when he came tumbling down from that high, it felt like losing all the money and getting kicked in the nuts.

He enjoyed the rush he had, he knew it was pulsating through his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up. He knew he had the energy, but no strength to put it into action. His heart was pounding, and he was sweating again, he was breathing harder than ever, and he felt like everything was moving all around him, and even through the whirlwind he was going through, he forced a weak smile to his lips and whipped a shaky hand across his forehead.

He knew he could take more, just a little bit more. He knew he could take more, so he dug in his pocket, pulled out a tiny bag filled with white power and dusted it on the counter floor of the bathroom, he could barely see, the candle was giving out, but he leaned down plugged one nostril and snorted the white snow through the other.

He sat back up and leaned against the wall in his original position, he sniffed his nose every few seconds, and in less than three minutes could feel the second rush pound within him.

He sat in his same position for twenty minutes in complete bliss. His crash was coming and he knew it, he could never prepare for it, so he didn’t try. He loosened the belt from his arm, and continued to sit. His heart was still racing faster than ever, and he was grinding his teeth, and fidgeting anxiously.

Through his bloodstream and through his veins he could feel the faint throb of prolonged euphoria. His blood pressure was high but one more line couldn’t hurt.

So he did it, one more line, for one more high. He sat; the room was still spinning, but spinning differently than it hard before. Now it felt as if the walls were caving in. His breathing had taken a different path; his breaths were shorter, slower, and not as constant. His skin was cold, his arms were different shades.

He sat, feeling his high stoop to an all time low, his heart rate slowed down, sometimes even skipping a beat, he was shaky and his vision was blurry. The room was spinning faster, and he had the sudden urge to close his eyes; he wouldn’t dare because he knew if he did, he probably wouldn’t open them.

It was mind over matter, but in those moments his mind was dominating. His eyes were half open when he found the sudden urge to smile, he knew this was the end, and he was content.

He was going to be the next Chris Farley, or the next River Phoenix, although he didn’t live up to their stature of lifestyle, he was going to end up the same way they did; and that’s when he closed his eyes.

Everything stopped spinning and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, slow and unsteady, then without warning, everything fell silent, but not before he let a smile grace his lips.