Posted in BlogABook, Fiction, Imagination

The Floor

The bathroom floor was ice cold, and in that moment she had never felt anything more comforting.

With her face pressed against the floor and the sweat rolling off her shoulders, it was the cold, cream colored tile with the gray shining grout her mother had chosen when she lived here. That was fifteen years ago, and her mother hadn’t spent much time here since.

Right now, Maggie was glad that her mother wasn’t around. She’d be disgusted.

Let’s face it, Maggie was disgusted.  This was the worst moment she’d had in a long time.  Maybe ever.  But you can’t stay high forever, and this last time was really the last.

She had to get away from Him. To get away, she’d need to be sober.

Being sober meant getting clean, and coming off of opioids was no joke.

He had been giving her meds since a few weeks after they’d met.  When she’d starting hanging out with him regularly; right after she moved home from college and got bored with her obnoxious, pot smoking father and the prying, extensively condescending interactions with her mother.

She lived with her Dad now, and Alex, Jeff and Jack. Not really what she’d hoped for when she graduated, but at least this tile was nice.  It was cool, and right now it was the difference between her actually overheating and dying and just feeling like she was going too.

Wrapped in a fluffy, gray and white patterned towel, laying on the floor of the upstairs bathroom, Maggie was sweating.  The house was always a climate controlled seventy-two degrees, but in that moment, the heat almost felt like too much.

Sweat poured off of her,and though she tried to sit up to readjust her towel, the light headed feeling that accompanied it was just too much.  The world swayed around her and the light coming through the window and hitting the vanity mirror felt like too much.

She loathed this sensation, and everything else in the room that reminded her of Him.

Looking down at her arms and legs, she could see the bruises she’d earned in her last high with him.  He didn’t usually get physical with her, other than to get some, but this time he’d squeezed her arms and legs so hard she’d bruised to keep her from leaving. Even with the other girl hanging out there, waiting for Maggie to leave so she could screw him, even then, he’d tried to keep her there.  Even high, she could feel it.

When she’d asked him why; why the other girls, why he was trying to keep her, why he always treated her this way, his response was almost too much to hear. “You’re stupid,” he’d said, “And you’re getting fat. You’re worthless, and I need more.”

Was she? She’d come home, earlier this morning from that scolding and stripped down for the shower.  By then, it was wearing off.  She always needed a shower once it started to wear off; before she could start again.

Looking in the mirror, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was right.  Was she getting fat.  She turned sideways to look at her naked body in the mirror.  As the high wore off, she began to get disgusted.  She wasn’t fat; she was puffy and had bones sticking out in all the wrong places.

In a moment of clarity, she could see what he’d done.  She could see the damage she’d been doing by staying. The bruises encased her arms and legs, and a single moment stuck out in her mind.  He’d said she was stupid.

Drugged out, yes.  Fat, maybe.  Unattractive, possibly.  Worthless, occasionally.  But stupid? No.  Not stupid.  She’d done some stupid things lately, but she wasn’t stupid.

It really started to wear off once she got into the shower.  Ten minutes in, her hand started shaking and she dropped the bottle of shampoo on her foot.  Another bruise to add to her most recent collection.

Twenty minutes in, she was swaying.  The world was moving and the lights were too bright.  The nausea started shortly thereafter, and she’d relegated herself to the floor in an effort to save herself.

Alex and Jeff wouldn’t be home at all for a while.  Alex was in grad school and Jeff worked two jobs.  Jack was in his freshman year at college and wasn’t supposed to be home until the weekend.  Dad was at work, closing cases and proving that the “Old Boys’ Club” still had plenty of dedicated members who only hired pretty interns.

Seemed like perfect timing to go through withdrawal.

Some addicts make excuses, some addicts stay practicing their addiction, and some go through the correct treatment methods to get away from the drugs that keep them bound.

As the vomiting started, it occurred to Maggie:  She wasn’t stupid, but she wasn’t any of those people.

 

 

 

 

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