} 033 - [VIDEO] - PUBLIC - a big ol' FUCK YOU
[Amanda's laying back in her hospital bed in the infirmary, and she looks like hell. Her eyes and nose are runny, there are dark circles of epic proportions beneath her eyes, and she's grimy with sweat. She radiates exhaustion...and defiance. Sarah and a few others have helped her get to this point.]
I've never made a secret of my heroin addiction. Before John saved me, I was a junkie whore. I'd sleep with anyone if it would get me drugs, or money for drugs. I lived in a slum apartment and I couldn't afford electricity most of the time...almost all my money went towards heroin. After my test, I quit cold-turkey.
I've spent three years sober since then. I've never desired heroin again.
[She pauses for a moment, during which she takes a cup of water from her bedside tray with shaking hands and sips at it.]
Six days ago, one Mark Hoffman jumped me as I was walking back to my room from the library. He injected me with a large dose of heroin and left me alive to suffer. He thought I'd go back to being that junkie slut again. He thought everyone would see me as one and think me weak, and that my warden would be grateful to see that I was some kind of 'lost cause'.
[She grits her teeth.]
Right now I'm going through withdrawal for a second time. It feels like dying, but I've refused all methadone and masking agents. I'm doing this right: cold-turkey again. I haven't given up, and for that matter, neither has anyone else. People I've never spoken to before now have supported me; people who dislike me have shown concern. My warden has sat beside me for every waking hour she's had. Nobody's called me a junkie. They see me as a survivor.
You miscalculated, Hoffman...and you've fuckin' lost, once and for all. You tried to break me, but I'm only gonna come out of this stronger. How does it feel, knowing you failed? I might be in agony, but this is the strongest I've felt in a long time.
I am triumphant.
I've never made a secret of my heroin addiction. Before John saved me, I was a junkie whore. I'd sleep with anyone if it would get me drugs, or money for drugs. I lived in a slum apartment and I couldn't afford electricity most of the time...almost all my money went towards heroin. After my test, I quit cold-turkey.
I've spent three years sober since then. I've never desired heroin again.
[She pauses for a moment, during which she takes a cup of water from her bedside tray with shaking hands and sips at it.]
Six days ago, one Mark Hoffman jumped me as I was walking back to my room from the library. He injected me with a large dose of heroin and left me alive to suffer. He thought I'd go back to being that junkie slut again. He thought everyone would see me as one and think me weak, and that my warden would be grateful to see that I was some kind of 'lost cause'.
[She grits her teeth.]
Right now I'm going through withdrawal for a second time. It feels like dying, but I've refused all methadone and masking agents. I'm doing this right: cold-turkey again. I haven't given up, and for that matter, neither has anyone else. People I've never spoken to before now have supported me; people who dislike me have shown concern. My warden has sat beside me for every waking hour she's had. Nobody's called me a junkie. They see me as a survivor.
You miscalculated, Hoffman...and you've fuckin' lost, once and for all. You tried to break me, but I'm only gonna come out of this stronger. How does it feel, knowing you failed? I might be in agony, but this is the strongest I've felt in a long time.
I am triumphant.