My Addiction (Fictional Short Story - Female Protagonist)

[I wrote this previously on my work blog which is floatingreflections.blogspot.com, and since it is possibly one of my writings I love most, I thought to share it here too, check out the rest of my hadi heyvun as Anne Bonny if you're bored ^-^ )

I lifted my gaze to meet his...

The result is almost painful... I instantly regret my decision, cursing my own idiocy...Hating my weakness...

Heat rushes into my face. The reaction is visible to him, I remind myself... I'm staring at my toes but I can see the self satisfied smirk on his face. He's silent, butI can hear the sneering laugh... Like a personal victory... How sick can you get?

And what do I do in defiance? To retaliate? This strong, passionate woman? Nothing. I submit, cave in, give up, accept defeat... whatever you call it. That's how much of a coward I've become.

He owns me now. It's a relative term. It owns us. I suppose that's more accurate.

Years ago they were all racking their heads why we landed up together.
The bitch. The bastard. Yeah yeah, but still, how?

I was a labelled, confirmed slut from the slums. Not that I sold. I just experimented.
It's a string of failed relationships. Not really multiple dating. You know? That kind... Bad rep, but still I got good guys, decent ones even. Usually got what I wanted in life... Yups! Lucky me...

It'd be some sort of consolation I suppose, had he been goodlooking. Understandable if he was filthy rich or had much dignity to his name. Fame I mean... well, none of that. They'd have been able to justify it all had he been the sweet, cute, cutiepie sort - then again if that were true I probably wouldn't be here in the first place, now would I?

Absolutely shameful is what it is.

Was he especially kind to me? Hell no. Lied. Cheated. Ignored. Humiliated. Several times over...

So what kind of a retard am I?

In the beggining I tried to please him... like any love sick sucker would. Love, no... I'm not going to taint the word in this story, Let's try again.

The guys I used to date, like I said... were of the good sort. Sweet faced, sweetly smiling and sweeter manners... Ironically I end up with this looser. Figures.

I suppose I could say I had to stay with him because I lost my virginity to him and felt some sort of attachment to him. I suppose I could say he wouldn't let me go because I soon started to play wifey and do his chores. I suppose I could tell you his reckless bad ass attitude was a new buzz. I guess I could blame it on me finding his junkie/orgy infest/almost criminal lifestyle appealing...

But the truth is... I wasn't that naive... The truth is I knew what was coming... Reality is that I was never the good little girl I pretended to be. I never had die hard morals to begin with, to stop me. I'd always questioned what I had been taught.

Not an ethist by any means, don't get me wrong now. No holy woman neither.

Lust is a very powerful emotion. If it can be called one. It's more like... a... drug. Cheesy huh... It's addictive, destructive and alters how our body functions and to top it off, is induced by a chemical realised into the body. Isn't it a drug then?

It's an escape mechanism, a vulnerability, a window of weakness.

Some smoke. Some snort. Some eject. Some Some drink. Some choke. Some just fuck. Simple as that. A, B, C. It's my cocaine. Like so many other addicts I didn't see it coming.. the high was just...beyond this world. Life itself is a variable you know? I fooled myself into calling it love.

The thought is hilarious now. Love? That? Blasphemous!

I sort of... hallucinated... and within so, dreamt up castles, conjoured up phrases like Shakespeare, planned out a perfect lifetime... one heck of a trip that was... and my ruin... I got hooked.

Didn't take long for the transformation. He became evil. Everything I'd constructed, concieved to be him... under closed, relaxed eyes... all dissipated, and I began to see him for who he really was - just another guy.

I hated him from the very innermost depths of my soul. I needed him though, I needed him, I needed him... and I need him even more. It burned a hole in me...

We had lives before each other, him and I. He had a good, safe girl. I had a decent steady guy. The story was to end in one and only one way. I knew exactly what that conlusive chapter would be like. I tried hard to walk away. My family set force to rehabilitate me in the sense, to life without him.

And then came the withdrawals. I itched to dial his number... I stared at his messenger icon... willing myself to look away, move away... I walked by his home, though mine was on the opther side of the neighborhood. I didn't mean to, at first, but I guess you could say that I began stalking him...

I knew him so well you see, I'm messed up but I'm not stupid... I went to the places where I knew he would go, when I knew I'd be able to find him there. Just sit and stare, observe him. I was beggining to scare myself. I couldn't sleep at night... all I could think of was him, and I knew something was going wrong with me.

My friends tell me I talk about him all the time, saw him or images of him no matter where I was, he haunted me. His voice echoed in my head. I was going insane. I told him, and in the beggining he found it amusing. Then he told me I was sick...

He left me, after using me. He felt guilty at first... I needed answers so I pushed it, tried to make the guilt work for me. Manipulate his feelings that way, you know, bring them back out. This desire for him, it couldn't live just inside me.

I bribed everyone to bring him back... his friends, his family... emotionally, physically, financially... and the most deadly weapon of all, sex..

'I'm pregnant and it's his...'

'You know, he stole money from me for heroin'

'You know you want me... come to me'

All the things I said... all those words I used... it was for the better. White lies.. no big deal... I had been pregnant, but I miscarried before I went for the abortion... Felt worse, like the child had rejected me... He did take money from me... for marijuana... drug either way...

He himself couldn't stay away from what I could make him feel...

I had trapped us into being what previously we couldn't be... and the lust drove us into it... drove us over the edge... and we couldn't take it anymore, we were trapped in a deadly cycle, damned forever. One of us had to make the sacrifice... the one that was truly wasting away...

I rubbed a finger across his paled cheek... and looked back into his eyes. This time the gaze isn't strong at all, it's empty... I bent over his beautiful face and kissed him. Then I dipped a finger into the warm flesh blood pouring out of his impaled chest and painted those delicate lips.

'My darling... and for what? Just lust?'