...Don't own House. Don't sue.

Inspired by MORPHINE INJECTIONS. Enjoy.

Clench my fist. Get the belt...tie it around. Snap. I've never quite gotten used to the noise, even after all my years of doing this again and again.

It's raining outside. Like I care. All I want is my fix. That's all I need right now.

Clouds are gathering outside my blinds, blocking out the once radiant sun. Good. I hate the way it hurts my eyes, anyways. Fill it up. Give it a flick. That should do it. That should keep me for a while.

The bathroom sink is dirty. Christ. I hate how fast the mold grows. If only it could stay gone. But for now, I just need this fix. I need the wonderful feeling of the burning liquid pulsing through my veins. Need my head to swim uncontrollably once more.

Fuck. I hate remembering her face. Face I used to love. Now I wish I could bash it in with the metal cane under my unmade bed. Shit. I forgot about that. I'll do it later.

Place the needle near the crook of my arm. Here it comes--the penetration. It feels so real. Like clear, soothing water running down my throat. Like the cold pain in my thigh. Like...

Not like that. Her touch was not real. At least, nowadays it's not. Real is this...the room spinning out of control as the darkness takes over me. Real is seeing God before me, glowing hotter than the sun. I feel it...the stunning brilliance of the tile's design. Sickly sweet shades of red and gold, vibrating, welcoming my drawing eyes.

Dark. I hate the dark. It happens, every time. The dark comes alive, swallowing me whole. Please, someone...rescue me. Pull me out of my nightmare. I don't care where I wake up this time. I'm falling.

Disappearing. Vanishing into thin air.

I hear some screaming in my head.

Not in my head.

Where is it?

Oh, my God...it's me. I'm screaming.

Needle drops from my hand. I drop to my knees.

What have I done?

Is there no turning back?

Mom says that I need God.

Here's my confession...

I really did love her. Every false word she whispered in my ear. Every seductive glance she gave me. Every single touch and sensation she gave me...shivers...breath against my flesh...leg giving out…searing pain--

--of falling against the side of the tub. Warm liquid running down the back of my head. It's not my God. It's my blood.

Here's my confession...

I didn't hate her at all. I hated myself for not being everything she wanted. For not being the one that she needed. For being this.

Hands are shaking uncontrollably.

Here's my confession...

I've been waiting to die for years now. And I've been trying to speed up the process. I don't appreciate what you've given me at all.

Body convulsing.

Here's my confession...

I hate the way this makes me feel.

Heart nearly exploding.

Here's my confession...

I don't believe that you created everything. You didn't create this. Because this is evil. And you are not evil.

Breath growing short.

Here's my confession...

I believe I was screwed over since the very beginning.

Breathing becomes deep.

Here's my confession...

I'm so afraid of the dark...