Closed Starter - Breaking Point (Contains Drug abuse)
@plugrick
It was like all stuff was building up, small problems, small things that brought her a little amount of stress, to the point it was too big for her to carry and had an outburst. Over family problems, again. Abusive people trying to get back into her life. This attack caused her to forget all about the things that made her happy. And it didn’t stop. She knew it’d hurt the few people around her if they turned up when she was like this. But she didn’t care Tears streamed down her pale face, her hand slowly stroking the ball of fur in her lap. Like he knew what she was feeling. But her focus was on the pile of needles. She had been clean for so long. Even Rick knew about her going to rehab every once in a while, avoiding heroin over all. She had been doing so well. You know what heroin does to you? It makes you feel happy, like there is no stress in the world. That’s what she wanted Shana tied a scarf around her upper arm, going to extend her arm out and search for a spot to hit. Not even injecting all of the first dose, just… Letting herself feel something she hadn’t felt in over a year. In a way, she missed this. The cat raised his head and watched her. She knew the more, the better. And if she kept going she wouldn’t just numb the pain. She’d end it. Her tears had stopped. She felt relaxed and stressfree Just injecting another dose. And another. Even when she felt the splitting headache, she just kept going to the point she threw up all over the bed and eventually collapsing and starting to lose consciousness. The ginger looked dead. She wasn’t, she just turned grey… Her lips turned blue and she started choking. On her own vomit. Well, it was a matter of time.
The cat was meowing. Non-stop. Loud meows.
As a familiar voice chimed in the other room, the cat seemed to get even louder, clawing at the redhead’s chest.
Friends were far and few between, these days.
What could he say? After moving back in with Beth, he’d really rather be… well, just about anywhere else. All things considered, his only daughter really wasn’t taking the whole, gone for years after abandoning her again thing with a whole lot of understanding. Not that Rick could exactly blame her for holding a grudge.
Point was, he was avoiding everything. Maybe that was why he kept doing stupid shit, or coming around to hang out his, uh - his one-of-a-kind buddy. Bothering her was, more or less, something to do. Plus, having a few things in common with her definitely didn’t hurt…
Why not pop over for a visit? It was almost becoming a habit to show up out of the blue at Shana’s place.
He arrived through a portal, unannounced like always, clutching a silver flask in one bony hand and a beaten up portal gun in the other.
Rick squinted around. It was… kind of quiet. And dark. “Shauuuuuuhpna? You - you here? I-I brought weeeee-eeeed!”
No response. Damn. Maybe she was out of the house. Probably bothering schoolkids for pocket change in return for aced tests again.
“Shit.” Just his luck. Her cat was obviously here, though, and he guessed that sitting around petting it would have to be enough to suffice ‘til she got back. Not that he was complaining.
He started towards the sound of loud, lonely meowing with a dejected sigh. “H-heeere kitty, kitt – jesus fucking christ!”
Oh, she was here alright. At least, her body was.
Shana looked like a corpse. Still and stiff and all riddled in needle marks.
It all clicked into place instantaneously. The syringes, the vomit, the fabric torniquet– Rick knew what was happening without sparing a second thought; he’d been on either side of enough overdoses to recognize one. Especially when it was this bad.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
He tried not to let his breath catch in his throat, but it did anyway. Rushing forward while trying his damndest not to lose his cool - he’s been through this a hundred times, why were his hands shaking now? - Rick gritted his teeth, rolling her onto her side. She was effectively drowning, no more than steps away from death by suffocation. How long had she been like this? How many times had she said she was done with these drugs? “Sh-sh-shana y-you - you fucking idiot – Quit f-fucking around a-aaand get up!”
It stopped. No more pain. The last thing she remembered was. . . Panic, when she couldn't breathe. Then it was like... a dream. The brain keeps functioning for a while even after you die. And you know what was stupid?
She saw <i> him </i>.
He made her smile, laugh, feel pain and sadness. In the end that's what life was about. But both of them were too stubborn and angsty to actually realize that sometimes.
~~
The first gasp of air felt horrible. This must be why babies cry when they're born??
She started coughing like hell. Her eyes closed and her whole body shaking-- As she gained consciousness, her color had started to come back.
The smell of vomit and alcohol being the first ones she could recognize-- Alcohol and... a certain scent mixed in that she could recognize anywhere.
"Ri-- Rick?"
Was she dead? If so, why the hell wouls he be there? Was it Hell?
Hah.
