she folded dreams between her arms and began to fall

Falling
her first sensation
falling
when she became conscious she felt like falling, like she wanted to fall, like she was falling

she.
i am she. i am falling

i tried to open her eyes, she had eyes, she opened her eyes. visually there was no change - dark was dark whether there were eyes or closed eyes - but at least there were eyes and she could feel they were open. that was a difference.

so she opened her eyes and stopped falling. well, no - perhaps she stopped and perhaps she hit terminal velocity. either way, she was done falling - had no more time for falling, only time for changes: there was light, a change of dark and darker and it was moving upwards; everything was moving upwards. around her and up.

everything was moving upwards but her - she wasn't moving at all, couldn't move.

ok, i breathed with her lungs. the sound echoed back, the sound of breathing like light moving upwards in the dark - it too moved upwards, wrapped around me and continued on its way. i lay back watching the sound move up the walls, reflecting with the light and then it was gone. the light left darkness in it's wake and i rolled over - rolled into the sound of coughing and stopped -

The ties won't let me roll over all the way.



I can hear Cody coughing and vomiting from the bathroom. His sputtering makes me feel dirty, like those same lips that are parting to pass partially digested food and stomach acid were dirty in my memories; like there were flecks of vomit drying on them even then, when he whispered to me in the bar, when he kissed me in hallway, when he... all vomit.

I struggle to sit up, half-heartedly - I don't really think I'll get out of this one. I just want a drag, one drag - I could smoke a whole cig in one drag right now. That's all the matters; for the rest, well, I'm not usually this stupid.

I had gone out with the intent that going out would distract me from the withdrawal symptoms. That not being in my dump of a place would help me forget that I have nothing left to sell or trade - well, nothing of any materialistic value anyway. I had contemplated the next step, but was not ready for it, didn't think I was strong enough (or weak enough) to go that far for just a fix.

I'd met Cody at a bar. Not my usual dive, not my hook-up dive either - I wanted to be anonymous last night. It was like he knew what I wanted even though I had decided I wanted nothing. He swaggered up, smiled shyly and made his offer.

He had promised to give me my fix. Just give it to me. To grant me that moment when I don't have to be me, here, or now. He had said it was ‘cause I reminded him of his niece or daughter or someone, because I was beautiful. I had told him I was done with that shit, with all of that shit and he smiled again. Just smiled that shy grin, like a boy who knew the score but was too polite to tattle on his big sister.

"Well then, this'll be your celebration," he cooed. His voice was rough like tree bark but not unpleasant. "One last fix, for the beginning of the rest of your life."

It sounded like a good idea, sounded like exactly what I wanted - one last fix and free too. It was too good to be true. I knew it was too good to be true but I was in the sway of a serious fit so my mind easily smoothed over any doubts, leaving me free and willing to do anything. Making me invincible. I didn't even hesitate when he told me I had to go with him to get the stuff.

There's a silence from the bathroom, then water running. I struggle again and try to make out just what he used to tie me to the bed with - feels like rope, where'd he get rope? - but the little light that seeps from under bathroom door is not enough to illuminate anything and I can't even tell if the place has windows. He'll be out in a minute. I wonder if he'll let me have a cig, even if he has to hold it to my lips. He's gotta. The idea makes my whole body tense in anticipation. I don't want to see him. I don't want him to touch me. I want him to bring me a smoke. I want him to bring it now. I'm so tense that I barely feel my body shaking.

I relax involuntarily when the vomiting starts up again. The poor thing - he didn't even get a chance to turn the water off this time.

He'd promised a fix and he'd delivered alright - I had lost most of the night to the tricks of drug and memory. But I know why he's puking, I remember why he's sick. The stuff wasn't clean, I can feel its poison coursing through my body now - the same poison he is trying to exorcise. He'll fail. Even if he manages to get all of that shit out of his body, he'll fail - the possession has clawed its way into his soul and dug tunnels. I know, trust me, I know. That's why I don't feel the least bit sick, just antsy. Damn I need a smoke.

You see, the poor bastard, for all his smiles and promises wanted - wants to use me. That much had seeped through my desperate brain while he fed me for free, spread his filthy plans like dirty fingers over my spine. So he paid, is paying and will pay the price. I'm not totally helpless, you know - well usually. I do have certain weapons in my arsenal. Weapons that even assholes like Cody can't resist. And last night, for the first time ever, in all the years he's been seducing stupid bitches like me up here to drug out and use up, he did his own shit, took his own poison and now the addiction can have him... well, after he brings me a smoke.