Sister morphine, when are you coming 'round again?

by kummy24
I started chasing my dad with a cricket bat in my hands. And then I woke up to look at the lazy ceiling fan. I could’ve resumed my lucid dream if I had closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. I jerked my head to the right and stared at the cupboard for awhile and then I sat up in the bed with an urgency. There was a film of irritation that covered my eyeballs.

I felt shitty. I felt shitty because I was alone. But, there stemmed a sense of transient contentment from the realisation that I didn’t derive any pleasure from the fact that I was alone. It was only momentary and I started feeling shitty again.

My throat was parched. I got off the bed and located the water jug. The flexors of my thighs ached while I walked. I swallowed large mouthfuls of water hastily and immediately regretted drinking too much of water. My stomach gurgled and I regurgitated sour acid. I was junk-sick.
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manelyn

manelyn

March 28, 2015 - 02:59 Is this story unfinished kummy24? Will you still edit it? I thought I didn't get the whole story yet :p Hope you can finish it though, I'll read it then again.
kummy24

kummy24

March 29, 2015 - 10:42 this is all. it just describes a junkie's experience of his sickness
Manahill Naik

Manahill Naik

April 5, 2015 - 20:50 umm what's with the cover image?? :D :D
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April 5, 2015 - 20:50 comment has been removed

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