AN: Oh boy, I had to do a lot of research for this chapter. I have no idea how to inject drugs, which means I had to use google to find out. Let's hope the cops don't come knocking on my door! Anyway, I tried to be as accurate as possible.
Thanks to everyone for their reviews, you really encourage me to continue writing.
Concealed inside the cramped storage cupboard, Lisa rummaged through a selection of boxes, trying to find a syringe and needle which she could use to inject the PTV. With the vial safely tucked inside her pocket, she breathlessly searched the shelves.
Her heart was thumping wildly against her ribs, pounding against her torso like a caged animal desperate to escape. She was taking a huge risk by sneaking equipment out of the hospital, and Kaufman made it unmistakably clear that she should refrain from being caught.
Staff would frequently wander into the closet, disturbing the already perturbed nurse. With a clipboard in hand, she would pretend to perform a stock check, trying to remain as indifferent as possible. It was a difficult task, as she wasn't particularly skilled at feigning her emotions.
Most of her co-workers were polite enough to greet her with an obligatory hello, and she reciprocated with a smile. For once, she was thankful that nobody made any further attempts to communicate, afraid that her knees would buckle and her resolve fade.
The teen had spent all afternoon fretting over whether or not to actually follow the director's orders. If she so wished, the girl knew she could easily dispose of the liquid. It was as simple as pouring it down the drain, throwing it in the trash, or even returning it to the man.
Discarding it wasn't an issue. What bothered her was the realization that she was willing to do something simply because Kaufman asked her to.
Sighing regrettably, the intern finally found what she'd been seeking. Grabbing the illicit item, she held it firmly between the clip board and her chest, pressing them tightly against her torso as she made to exit the claustrophobic space.
By now it was dark, the subdued lights casting forboding shadows along the walls. Pumps squeaking on the polished surface, Lisa made her way to the locker room, abandoning the clipboard on the counter as she passed.
It was empty, a sight which she was more than relieved to see. With the syringe case in hand, she nervously hurried to her locker, opening the cool metal and taking a small satchel from within. Placing the syringe inside, she took a moment to eye the suspicious vial.
It seemed to have deepened in colour, having acquired a burnished carmine that almost appeared black in the shade of her silhouette. Removing her cap, the girl placed it inside her bag, shielding the items from view.
Slipping on her jacket, the teen headed for the foyer, signing out before stepping into the cold breeze that whistled through the onyx sky. Such a strong gust threatened to steal away the air from her lungs, forcing her to cringe against the powerful blow.
Though it was a harsh gale, the teen embraced the frosty wind, allowing the cold to bring some form of clarity to her muddled thoughts. As she pushed her way through nature's wrath, Lisa had a moment of reflection.
She existed only to fulfill her mother's wishes, letting the woman tug at her strings like a mad puppeteer. Adhering to the rules and regulations bestowed on her, the nurse had wavered through life, a broken marionette.
Friends migrated, time passed, and seventeen years flew by in a vague haze. Countless days were wasted before the window, ogling her friends as they giggled, laughed and jauntily skipped down the road, free to do as they pleased.
Smiling sincerely, her peers would hold their boyfriend's hands, looping arms in a display of mutual affection. It was an act the teen knew she would never be able to do, forced to forever hide in the confines of secrecy.
A quick kiss, the touch of a fleeting hand, a lasting disapointment. That was all her relationships ever amounted to. She would see the way they scorned her, sense the contempt when she slapped their hands or shoved them away.
Eventually, she gave up the charade of normality. Love and sex had as much meaning as her fading aspirations. Hollow and dead.
Whilst her companions were busy smoking cigarettes and tasting alcohol, she was curled up at her desk, forcing herself to write another long and tedious essay, or complete a particularly tasking assignment, growing more insipid as the days passed by.
She began reading so as to avoid the crippling loneliness that solitude often brought, and though she enjoyed spending time with her friends, the intern could feel an ever present rift gradually growing between them. Her peers blossomed, whilst she withered.
They treated her as they always had, yet the girl's own insecurities made her feel like the black sheep, the odd one out. Watching everyone relish in their youth, regardless of how foolish some of their decisions were, filled her with a mournful envy.
It dawned on the girl that she had never truly felt alive.
Dreary and weak, a shrinking violet, half-formed and not completely grown. She hated being considered a child, but she was aware that she was not yet a woman. Trapped in a cruel limbo that seemed perpetually shrouded in fog, her eyes were glazed and her path unclear.
Tightly gripping the coarse leather strap of her bag, Lisa thought about the possibilities that now lay within her grasp. She had an opportunity to take control of her life, to finally let her own actions pave the way for her future.
It was dangerously irresponsible of her, but the teenager couldn't deny the twinge of excitement that tangled her stomach in a mass of serpentine knots. There was an immense thrill that came with the prospect of taking such a risk.
Besides, it was just a harmless relaxant, right?
With an unbridled yearning, the intern broke into a swift jog, feeling her battered cheeks sting against the violent breeze. Her pumps echoed through the empty town as she breathlessly made her way home, petite frame vanishing between the dim street lamps.
The distant sound of barking dogs was the only noise that disturbed the pitched whistle of the unruly wind, and in the empty night, Lisa thought that Silent Hill resembled a ghost town.
Not a soul could be found outside the boisterous walls of Annie's Bar, and even the local tavern, a popular hotspot for tourists, was eerily quiet when out of season. Despite it's ostentatious reputation, it was a very quiet place to live.
Ascending the steps to her house, the nurse struggled to find her keys in the jumbled depths of her satchel, resting her weight against a wall as she spat clumps of hair from her mouth. Retrieving the jagged metal, she inserted it into the lock and released the latch.
Inside, the warmth of a burning fire stung her frigid limbs, easing her into a sense of comfort. From the kitchen, pots and pans rattled and clanged as her mother prepared dinner, a layer of opaque steam masking the window glass.
Her mother was humming absently to herself, unaware of her daughter's presence. Hanging her jacket on the nearby coat rack, Lisa called out to the woman.
'I'm home!'
'Hi sweetheart.' She replied, peering round the door to greet her child. 'Dinner's almost ready, go and get changed.'
Tucking her windswept hair behind an ear, the teenager made her way upstairs, keeping her pace as slow as possible. She didn't want to appear eager, but her entire being shook as she carefully entered the tidy bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Peeling off her shoes, the intern removed her cardigan and carefully folded it over the back of her chair. Forearm exposed, she stood for a moment, gently prodding the soft flesh with her fingertip. A selection of veins gathered beneath her ashen hue.
With weak knees, she sat on the edge of her bed, mattress creaking slightly as she listened to her mother's distant song. Her confidence began to waver now that she had settled, but her turbulent nerves still jostled expectantly.
I can do this. She told herself, reaching for her satchel.
Removing the box and vial, she began to clumsily prepare the needle, hands quaking so fiercely that she dropped the syringe. When she managed to secure the sharp point, the nurse carefully placed it on her desk, searching for something she could use as a tourniquet.
It was the one thing she hadn't thought to grab, instead yanking open her drawers in search of a thin belt. She knew it wasn't practical, but deciding it would have to do, she swiftly wrapped the strap around her arm, tugging tightly until it was secure.
Heart pumping like a powerful piston, she once again tapped her arm, watching as the veins pulsed and throbbed under her touch. Satisfied that she had found a suitable spot, the girl took the vial and measured out twenty miligrams of the strange fluid.
Biting her lower lip with enough force to break the skin, Lisa hesitated as she stood in the centre of her room, soft rug bristling against her curling toes. Though she'd had plenty of practice in giving injections, this was an entirely different circumstance.
What if something goes wrong? She pondered, pacing back and forth as she tried to decide whether or not to sit down. I could overdose, or accidentally collapse a vein.
'Lisa!' Her mother's shrill voice pushed it's way through her door, further disturbing the girl. 'I'm almost finished, can you come and set the table?'
Indignant, the teen refused to reply, snatching up the syringe and carefully tapping it so as to identify any air bubbles that remained. When they settled at the tip of the plastic, she depressed the plunger to dispose of them.
It was now or never. She knew that if she released the syringe, she would never pick it up again. Holding the cylinder down, she placed the sharp metal at the edge of her vein, clenching her jaw and forcing back the urge to shiver.
As the abrupt thrust of a cold tip pierced her flesh, Lisa let out a soft whimper, taking a moment to release the make-shift tourniquet before she continued. Too much pressure, and she was on her way to a burst vein.
With determination, she pushed her thumb down, forcing the murky liquid into her bloodstream. It was a strange sensation, one which she could not accurately describe. A strange prickle, as though something hot was boring into her muscles.
Mouth agape with pain and discomfort, the intern slowly removed the needle, standing frozen for a short time whilst the drug coursed through her body. It worked swiftly, sending a wave of relaxation over the girl. She felt euphoric and happy.
All of her problems and negativity seemed to evanesce, leaving nothing but a lasting calm. She felt hollow, as though she were made of hot air. Numb, she smiled at the lack of feeling, finding it a pleasant change from her usual torrent of emotions.
A trickle of blood began to ooze from her wound, attracting the intern's attention. Extending her arm, she watched it slither down her wrist. Wandering to the bathroom, she tore a strip of toilet paper from the roll, applying it firmly to the bloodied flesh.
It was a feeling she could get used to, but the girl didn't want to make a habit of it.
Just this once. She told herself, alleviating her arm to stop the flow of blood. I'll try it just this once. What harm can it do?
Her mother called for her again, and she carefully hid the syringe and vial, hastily cleaning the soiled needle. Disposing of the dirty paper, she flushed the evidence down the toilet, quickly changing into a long sleeved shirt. It would hide the bruises that would surely develop.
As she reached the foot of the stairs, Lisa paused to inhale the stench of steaming food that drifted through the hall. Despite not dining since breakfast, her once ravenous appetite had long since dissipated, vanishing with the rest of her senses.
She was no longer hungry.