Needle touched her soft skin. She didn't even wink at the pain. Slowly she pushed down on the needle, until all of it's contents had entered her bloodstream. Her eyes widened. And she collapsed in the corner remembering how it all had started, but now it didn't matter. She was going back to the happy place once again, a place where sun never sets, where there is no pain, no broken homes, no alcoholic fathers nor abusive mothers, no suicidal brothers and nymphomaniac sisters. She was going to that dream world. And by god Almighty, she was gonna stay there.
But as cigarette ashes disappear in wind, she woke. Now she had to get her mind together. There was one thing that had to be taken care of. She rose from the floor, washed her face and looked in a mirror, what she saw frightened her, where had her beauty gone? Or was it? Maybe this was not her image, perhaps she still was seeing things. No! Reflection coldly displayed what it had to - a young face, that had blue rings around eyes, skin that looked like it had been dug up by an army of tiny little miners, face was missing some teeth, and eyes, eyes were bloodshot. But it was her. Down in this pit all alone. Moving carefully and supporting her weight on the sinks she moved to the door. Then taking the last look back she opened pressed down door handle and entered station.
She felt like she had left a womb, this bathroom had been such a quiet place for her, where she had hid away from the ugly face of this world, but now again she had hear all the people yelling, all the trains screeching, all the kids crying, all the dealers dealing. She stumbled across the station on to the terminal. She knew that she had to wait for the metro. That would take her where she needed. She stood there right next to the edge, and waited, when she saw it coming. But at that moment she sneezed, and lost the little balance she had and fell on the railway. Train tried in vain to stop, but it was not possible, at least not fully and it ended up rolling over her thighs.
She did not scream, she was too shocked to do that. Everybody else was frantically yelling and calling, but she just laid there in and out of consciousness. Last thing she saw before passing out was a face, an old one. It felt so familiar, it was so ugly, no teeth, scarred skin.
She awoke in hospital, at first she was too heavily sedated to do anything, but when she could move her arms she found in shock, that she had no legs, all that was left was too stumps just below abdomen. Doctors did their best telling her how she could still have full life, but she did not care. They thought that they knew how she felt. They thought they could tell her how she will live like a cripple. fuck them! She needed a fix. And she was in hospital. Better yet she could OD on something, that would solve her problems once and for all. She could have no life on street like this.
Doctors found her body in the toilet she was finally able to use with her wheelchair. She was dead! Needle still in the vein and note in the other hand. Note read something like this:
"To all you fuckers out there. You all talked how I could have a normal life even with my disability. You call two fucking stumps stuck to my stomach a disability? I would love to see you Mr. Doctor to live like that for fucking day. My life had been a s--- storm for last five years, and this was it. Sure you could have given me some help and shit, but hell I still would want to use, I loved that junk, and well hell if I die, I die high.
No one is responsible for my death, you did what you had to do, I did what I had. So yeah, see ya all next life I guess..."
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