A/N: This chapter is short but heavy. I write a lot faster and a lot more when you review, so if you want me to update, telling me to update actually does make me update faster.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kickin' It.
I was going to do some research on this drug before taking it, but at this point I don't care what the side effects are. I'm at my desk with a razor blade that I took out of a razor (don't worry, it was fresh from the package and I haven't used the razor before, so it's clean) and the bottle full of little rock crystals. I take one out and put it on a plate, where I slice a piece off. I have to lean back when I notice my own teardrops are landing on the plate, and I don't want to get the drugs wet. I have to wipe my eyes every now and then when my vision gets blurry. I cut it into smaller and smaller pieces until it's a fine powder, and when I'm done, I have to take a moment to catch my breath. After a few hiccups and coughs I finally slow down my breathing so it's steady enough that I can snort the light pink powder. I grab a tissue and blow my nose, and it takes a lot more than one tissue to clear my nose out, but when I'm done, I scoop a small amount of the fine powder onto the edge of the blade, hold it under my nose, plug one nostril, and inhale sharply. I wince at the sharp pain so high in my nose I feel like it's in my brain, and I start coughing. When I swallow I notice a horrible taste in my mouth, and now I feel something wet dripping on my lip. I wipe it off with my finger, and it's blood. This was a bad idea. I have no idea what I just put in my body, and it's making me bleed! I close the lid on the bottle and shove it in my pocket. When I stand up, a gentle wave of pleasure crashes against me, and I feel calmer.
"Fuuuuuuck!" I hear a loud yell, and when I look out of my window, Jack is pulling his hand out of the wall. Did he just punch a hole in his own wall? He cradles his bloody hand, slumps down on the edge of his bed, grabs a pillow, and holds it against his face. I hear a muffled yell and his body starts to shake. After about a minute, he sets the pillow down and rubs his hands on his face and runs them through his hair. He sits up straight, opens his nightstand drawer, and starts taking out pill containers. He opens each one and pours all the pills on the surface of his nightstand. He takes a water bottle off his nightstand and opens it, pops a handful of pills into his mouth, and drinks them down with water. And then he does it again. And again. And again.
"No!" I scream at the top of my lungs, but he doesn't hear me. "Jack! Stop!"
He's trying to overdose. "Jack! No!"
This is my fault. If I hadn't said those things, he wouldn't be doing this. "Stop, please," I cry.
I can physically feel my heart breaking."No!" I choke on my own sobs and struggle to breathe. My heart is pounding, my room is spinning around me, I feel weak and dizzy.
He can't die. Jack can't die. I have to do something. I can't let him die. I hope it's not too late for me to save him.
A/N: I want so badly to analyze my own story and to point out all the symbols and literary devices, but I'll let you guys connect the dots. I tried to make this chapter intense but not too intense. Idk if that worked out. I've never done drugs but I did a lot of research even though I doubt any of you have done Molly lol. If you have tell me! And tell me if I portray it accurately lol.
If you like Hooked on a Feeling more than this story, or you just want me to update that one, review on it. I'm still waiting for suggestions on that one.
Btw I know it seems dark, but you can't have a rainbow without the rain (idk if that's the saying, but that's what I'm saying lol).