Room 413 | Late Afternoon | Thursday | September 8
Nathan's plan had been simple. Ever since losing his fucking cigarettes (and his joints, apparently) this morning, he'd planned on going to the mainland after class to score some more. And that had worked! He'd stocked up on cigarettes and was planning on having a party in his bedroom to celebrate but as soon as he got back on the fucking island, those cigarettes had just...fucking disappeared. He'd dropped them or they'd blown away or something but whatever it was, he did not have them.
Nathan was now going on over a day without having smoked a cigarette and he felt like he might fucking explode. He'd eaten chocolate, he'd chewed the end of a pen until ink had exploded on his shirt and he'd tried to get drunk but found that he'd downed all his alcohol and had nothing left.
Needless to say, Nathan was twitchy, fidgety, moody and still trying to stuff chocolate and donuts and anything else in his mouth to try to substitute caffeine for nicotine. It wasn't really working and he was starting to worry about putting on huge amounts of weight or something from this sudden binge.
"This is bloody ridiculous!" he yelled at no one in particular. "Where're my fucking cigarettes? Fucking island! Fuck!"
And then he snagged another pastry from the bag he'd bought after his cigarettes had disappeared. He really needed to get fucking plastered. The donuts were good but they were expensive and he wanted to cry.
[One addict going cold turkey right here, yes yes. Door's open, post's open and all that jazz.]
Nathan was now going on over a day without having smoked a cigarette and he felt like he might fucking explode. He'd eaten chocolate, he'd chewed the end of a pen until ink had exploded on his shirt and he'd tried to get drunk but found that he'd downed all his alcohol and had nothing left.
Needless to say, Nathan was twitchy, fidgety, moody and still trying to stuff chocolate and donuts and anything else in his mouth to try to substitute caffeine for nicotine. It wasn't really working and he was starting to worry about putting on huge amounts of weight or something from this sudden binge.
"This is bloody ridiculous!" he yelled at no one in particular. "Where're my fucking cigarettes? Fucking island! Fuck!"
And then he snagged another pastry from the bag he'd bought after his cigarettes had disappeared. He really needed to get fucking plastered. The donuts were good but they were expensive and he wanted to cry.
[One addict going cold turkey right here, yes yes. Door's open, post's open and all that jazz.]