part three...

After having fixed and satisfied my only true ambition of not being sick (without the necessary amount of heroin to stave off withdrawal symptoms), i attmepted to rouse my companion.
"wake up, jerk," i said, with a half-joking tone.
The reply that came from beneath the pile of blankets beside me was one that was filled with the mirth that only awakening addicts can muster:
"fuck off asshole..."
Needless to say, i hadn't clearly illustrated the gravity of the situation. The day was upon us, ripe with the potential of degrading and illegal acts set into motion by the notion of being without drugs. This impossible urgency invokes an ambition and drive that is baffling and unmatched in the non-addict's world. The constant and impending threat of sickness is a force to be reckoned with, turning the most responsible and well-to-do individual into the most depraved and dope-hungry drooling madman the likes of which would make the "Reefer Madness" hop-heads blush. i knew that at that juncture, an executive decision had to be made and enforced. However, i also still had a bit of drugs still remaining, and while my P.I.C (partner in crime, of course) remained unmoved by my earnest attempts to wake him, i had a chance to finish it off unabated. i fixed the remaining amount of heroin, and mixed in the bit of cocaine i had saved (drug-addict 101 says, "heroin + cocaine= speedball.). Almost instantaneously my head was filled with an odd combination of pleasure and fear. i felt the blood rushing from the jackhammer that laid beneath me ribs, and laid back to enjoy the moment. i stifled the urge to be sick upon myself and struggled to maintain control of my life-functions. That moment of true powerlessness, walking up to the abyss, spitting in it, then turning and walking away... It is a feeling that fills my mind with dread and anxiety. How could i be so reckless? Wasn't i supposed to be in school? Wasn't there people who cared for me that would surely be concerned that this is what i had become? i jumped up and ran to the nearest bush to throw up.
After i was sick, i regained the ambition to start the day. i roused my p.i.c from his opiate slumber and we cleaned up the campsite. We gathered the few meager possesions we held dear and loaded up our backpacks, ready to set off into the piercing morning sun.