In The Dark

-->

I sat terrified in my pitch dark room. They were approaching. I could hear their echoes in the hallway. They wanted to take me away from my room; my hiding place, the only place I felt safe in. I couldn’t let them do that. I locked the door. But the latch it refused to move… The footsteps kept coming closer. Godammit the latch was stuck. Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to cry for help but couldn’t risk them discovering me here! Even the strongest of my prayers didn’t make the latch move. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling! Then the voice came, “Tina… are you there?” It pierced me through the darkness of the room. My greatest fear now stood across the door.

I shuddered to the core. My mind seemed to have lost all sense of judgment. They kept on calling my name. Then the door started thumping. I could feel the pain rising in my temples… I could feel it thumping on my head like a hammer… I could feel sweat and goosebumps all over me…I could feel tears blurring my vision. I could feel the pain getting the better of me… only to grow more intense, more killing, more thumping than ever. I shouted for mercy but the assaults did not stop.

I couldn’t believe my mom and dad doing this. Why did they not listen to my pleas for mercy. I was shouting like a maniac looking for a place to hide… to shut off the thumping. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get my dose right now. I rummaged my wardrobe, toppled the drawers, searched below the pillow, the sheets, the bed. I didn’t care. I needed the rush. Every second that passed made it even more difficult to bear the pain, to breath, to stand. To top it the thumping and calling continued.

Windows… Oh my God the windows were not closed? I ran to shut the windows. Double checked the latch and tied the curtain around the handles so there was no chance for even God to sneak through. The Hell had not yet ended… it kept sinking deeper and deeper. The room seemed to get darker and darker, scarier and suffocating. My heat seemed to be bursting out of my chest. I felt like dying.

I gave it a final try reaching my hand below the bed. Finally after what seemed to be ages my hand felt a glass bottle. I shrieked as if I’d found elixir. With hands which were now trembling like a half dead fish I found a syringe feeling my hand through the pile of things I’d thrown from the wardrobe, pulled out the magic liquid from the bottle and pierced it through my skin.

I’m not sure if that helped. I curled up into a bundle on the floor, shut my eyes and pressed my hands hard on my ears to block the thumping and shouts coming from outside the door. I don’t even remember when I passed off.

As I woke up this morning, It took me some time to realize that I was alive. I had felt death coming to me that night. For once I was happy to believe I was dead the simplest way I had give a permanent end to the hell and pain I had gone through. A permanent end to my problems. A permanent end to me.

Today at age 18 I’m in a drug rehab institute going over a similar hell every day. But had my parents not got me here that day I wouldn’t have survived to the hope of a normal sane existence that awaits me beyond getting over my addiction of the hell named heroin.