i wrote this for my creative writing(henry ford) class...dont ask.
(The Junkie sits in a chair in the middle of his front room. Wrapping a rubber band around his bony arm, a vein pops out. Shoving the needle in his arm as far as it can go, he pushes every ounce heroin he can into his veins. He slumps down into the chair. His arm falls lifeless at his side, and the needle falls to the floor laughing all the way….)
Needle: A hint of bitterness I detected?
Junkie: here I lay sifting through bitter ashes, dreaming of dreams long lost (sarcasm creeps into his voice) and here you stand ever so proud with that stupid smile. You ask if I’m bitter even in the slightest way? (His eyes begin to roll back into his head, and he begins to cough, or laugh) nay not in the least.
Needle: oh come now, is there a need to mock your savior? Dreams long lost? Dreams float along your subconscious ever so gently, touching your void with soft skeletal hands. Dwelling on bitter ashes when I can take you so far away with just a simple touch.
Junkie: (smiles ironically) a simple touch with such a great price. Years wasted wanting the surreal, living a hollow knights tale. (The junkie begins to spasm and convulse so violently that he breaks his arm and dislocates the opposite shoulder. Blood begins to trickle down the corner of his mouth…he smiles once more accepting his fate.)
A pale awakening oddly too late …(he spasms once more this time snapping his neck)
Needle: a gift so precious lost to realities deafening blows. A weak mind succumbing to the temptation of a miscalculated overdose. Another story written and closed how many more will I encounter of the wrongfully accused. My advice was overlooked and abused.
Needle: A hint of bitterness I detected?
Junkie: here I lay sifting through bitter ashes, dreaming of dreams long lost (sarcasm creeps into his voice) and here you stand ever so proud with that stupid smile. You ask if I’m bitter even in the slightest way? (His eyes begin to roll back into his head, and he begins to cough, or laugh) nay not in the least.
Needle: oh come now, is there a need to mock your savior? Dreams long lost? Dreams float along your subconscious ever so gently, touching your void with soft skeletal hands. Dwelling on bitter ashes when I can take you so far away with just a simple touch.
Junkie: (smiles ironically) a simple touch with such a great price. Years wasted wanting the surreal, living a hollow knights tale. (The junkie begins to spasm and convulse so violently that he breaks his arm and dislocates the opposite shoulder. Blood begins to trickle down the corner of his mouth…he smiles once more accepting his fate.)
A pale awakening oddly too late …(he spasms once more this time snapping his neck)
Needle: a gift so precious lost to realities deafening blows. A weak mind succumbing to the temptation of a miscalculated overdose. Another story written and closed how many more will I encounter of the wrongfully accused. My advice was overlooked and abused.