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"Inner Demons" 2nd extract by Neal Drummond (language caution. mature theme) (1 Viewer)

drumzii

Senior Member
2nd extract from "Inner Demons".

Essex, February 1968.

"Pass it 'ere then" Jane sat up, reaching for the pipe. Hair stuck across her face, she realized she had fallen asleep on the floor with her head in a spilt drink.
There was no response, bar a sleepy whimper from Rupert, her boyfriend. Rupert and Jane were skinny - skeletal even. Gaunt faces etched upon their heads giving the appearance of ghostly departed. A life of drugs and sleepless nights had seen to that. Rupert was asleep on the sofa, a needle hanging out of his arm at an awkward angle and whimpering to himself in his broken sleep. Belt round his arm, blood had dangerously collected, giving his hand the appearance of a blown up rubber glove.

Jane was clucking for a hit. Clucking like she always was. Her eyes darted across the room in search of the pipe and found nothing but an empty pouch of tobacco and a spilt can of Pepsi. She sat up and dragged her tired body along the floor towards him then wasting no time, pulled the half empty syringe from Rupert's dark red forearm and unstrapped the belt. For a split second, Rupert's thin blood sprayed out onto the side of her face but she didn't notice. She was too desperate for a hit.

Desperate to retreat back into her dreamy unreality. Sticky hair mopped around her face like a spider latching on to its prey, she strapped her arm up, hastily pulling the belt with her teeth as she fastened the buckle, and waited for the blood to fill her tiny hand as she tapped her arm. The pain was too much. She found a vain, and without hesitating, sunk the needle into her skeletal arm and waited for the despair to abandon her, as pure bliss wrapped itself around her fractured soul and she sunk back down onto the dirty wooden floor. Her eyes became heavy. Looking up one last final time, she saw a small boy on the staircase carrying a toy car. Detached, he gazed at her and in that last moment of her looking up at him, saw a shadow upon the wall behind him.

"Billy.. Who's tha'..." she passed out; any consciousness she had left leaving her as she drifted off into her drug induced mental haven, no longer caring - or even knowing what was happening around her, as the panic stricken anxious little boy dropped his toy car, leapt off the staircase and pulled his mother onto his lap.

He pulled the hair from her face and wiped the blood from her pale skin, tears glistening in his eyes like two bright green emeralds shining in moonlight. Holding his hand to her mouth, he felt her breath drift onto his skin and knew she was still breathing, this time. He shook her gently in a vain bleak attempt to wake her, but settled for pulling her upright and simply sat with her, stroking her softly as he waited apprehensively for his mother to wake.
 
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