Fluorescent lights illuminated the office of the Police Chief. Her desk was a mess of paperwork and case descriptions that had accumulated at an alarming rate. Behind the desk, a coordinating chair creaked rhythmically with Anna's rocking. She was perched on it, hugging her knees, trying to keep herself in check.
Concentration had been more challenging each day she'd been clean (she was on day 12) and she'd thrown herself into her work. A knock on the door brought her to her feet instantaneously.
"Yes?" yelped Anna.
"We have a woman in custody, Chief," a new officer alerted her. Anna opened the door for the young man, who gestured proudly toward the woman in question. "I pulled her over for speeding. She looked pretty fidgety when I was writing her ticket, and that's when I noticed what was in the back of her car." He stopped speaking, as if to add some sort of dramatic flourish to his words.
"What," prompted Anna impatiently, "was in the back of her car?"
"Heroin needles. Six of them."
Anna clicked her tongue. "Sounds like she'll be spending the night here. But we're going to need to get her statement and contact her lawyer, if she has one."
"Don't worry, chief," said the newbie proudly. "I know what to do."
"Good," Anna replied. "Where are the papers?"
"Papers?"
"Yes."
"Oh! The papers! I left them up front; actually, I can just..."
"Forget it." Anna slid past him out the door. "I'll take care of it." She stopped at the front desk, finding the stack of papers the officer had neglected to bring to her. A few feet away sat a meagerly dressed woman, with dark hair that brought out the circles carved under her eyes. The woman was only thirty-two years old, but her eyes made her at least forty-five, and when she spoke, the deep, aged raspiness made her sixty.
"This wasn't supposed to happen..." the woman trailed.
Anna glanced in the direction of the woman. "It never is, is it?" she responded vacantly, leafing through the papers to see that they were in order.
"It was my last time. Just one more hit..." Anna didn't say anything, so the woman's voice continued with the aimless sound of trash drifting through an alley, "but then again, how many times have I said that?"
The rustling of papers stopped as Anna took in a sharp breath. She listened to the woman, half-annoyed, half-interested.
"It was easiest in the beginning. I'd quit just fine, but the thought was always there, ready to take advantage of me, whenever it could. I think I told my mind I was really going to stop, but in my heart I always knew I'd be back for another high." She shrugged and pulled up her sleeves, exposing arms with protruding veins and dozens of needle-inflicted bruises. "I guess you could say I wasn't doing so well."
Anna turned and stared at the woman's arms; the sight prompted her to touch her own wrist protectively. "Why did you do it?" she surprised herself by asking.
The woman's empty eyes traced over the patterns of the carpet beneath them. "I-" she stuttered, "I can't explain it. When I began, I just wanted an escape. I guess I escaped too much, a little too often, I finally just lost touch with anything I was trying to escape from," she snorted thoughtfully. "Sometimes, even when things were at their best, I'd hit up. No good reason. Maybe I was afraid, who the hell knows? Certainly not me. It was just all I needed, that was that. When I was sad, angry, alone... of course, in the end I didn't know what I was anymore, but one godamm shot and I was flying away from all that for awhile. It's like I can't-- I don't-- ugh," she gave up, "I'm not making any sense, am I? Go figure. Nothing makes sense anymore. Hasn't for a long time."
"I don't think any of it makes sense. But I understand what you're saying far more than I'd like to admit," Anna mumbled to herself. She gathered her papers and walked away. The woman's inquisitive bloodshot eyes watched her for a moment, and then shut hopelessly.
Back in her office, Anna watched the ink on the paper melt into streams of blood, and congeal back into the legal jargon it was supposed to be. I'd quit just fine, but the thought was always there, ready to take advantage of me, whenever it could... The words were echoing loudly in her mind, sound waves pulsing against inside her skull. The last thing I'd ever expected as Chief of Police was to find that I could relate to those I arrest. And yet here I am, toying with this idea... addiction. But I can't be addicted to anything. At least-- well, even if I was addicted to my own blood, that is over. I'm not doing that anymore, it's been twelve days. The difference between that woman and me is that I can stop.
Outside, she heard the officer talking to the woman.
"I hope you like orange," he chortled, "because that's gonna be your new wardrobe for awhile."
"I don't think I'll be there long," the woman called. "I'm tired of fighting. It's too late for me."
Anna closed her eyes until she heard the set of footsteps fade. She opened them cautiously and stared down at her calendar. Robin comes in nine days. Nine days to stay clean... easy. Anna smiled reassuringly to herself. Her eyes burned, and she felt a hot tear trickle down her cheek. She reached up to brush it away, but her cheek was dry.