make sure it's in the vein! (I just really need to soothe the pain)

"stay still, don't move,"

the more you concentrate, the more cautious you become, and the more careful you are, the more unsteady you feel–uneasy. her bony, brittle arm lays against the kitchen counter, her veins beautifully visible and–fragile–flowing with blood, waiting to be punctured and filled with the only thing they have left to offer each other

 your hands are shaking and, with a slight twitch, you miss. the needle pokes straight through her vein. you hurry to pull the needle out without causing more damage. blood trickles down her arm.she curses at you–she's in pain. the cure is still in this needle, though. she still wants it and now she needs it, too
   she shouts at you, rushes you, commands you to try again and,
because of your love–your loyalty–you follow her orders, repeatedly injecting her with temporary euphoria, fooling her, sedating her with heroin; a disease and a curse

"it's just a drug," she shrugs,
smiles, leans back and falls into her chair; lets the drug consume her

it felt like an eternity, but lasted for only a moment. you watch as her breathing soon becomes steady again, her eyes begin to focus. she thanks you and begins to sob, then apologizes and smiles again.

She’s still bleeding, still hurting. "I feel much better."

Michelle