Insanity

He knew he shouldn’t be here. He didn’t need to think about the events that led him here; just that he was here. In the midst of temptation, he had everything to lose, and yet here he was again. The enemy was in the room. The beast with deadly fangs masked with a beautiful fragrance to lure in its prey. Its sinister presence made his head vibrate.
Michael closed his eyes to silence the voices in the room. He still had a choice—always a choice. Rehab had taught him that, hell, life experience had taught him that. You never learn, thought Michael. He was like a child that put his hand on the hot stove, but unlike that child, he never learned.
Sobriety had taught him coping skills to survive. The steps had revealed himself and uprooted the demons from his past. Yet here he was again. Making the choice of sobriety had saved his marriage. Michael could envision his beautiful wife: her smile, her love of life and zest for adventure. In his sickness he had almost quenched that flame. The beast that controlled him was not the man that she fell in love with. It had touched every part of Michael’s life and corroded it like acid.
Nothing was sacred. Nothing was safe from its destruction. He was split in two; his true self and his deranged mind were lost in the whirlpool of insanity. The insanity was so great, so tremendous that nothing but a miracle could pull him out. But it had happened. He had been freed from the grasp of his seductive mistress.
But she was patiently waiting for his return.
She was beautiful and deadly.
A seamstress of lies.
Sower of betrayal and empty promises.
A viper in wait.
Michael opened his eyes to examine the situation. Three-fourths of the group had fallen into their drug-induced lullaby. In fact the needle was already inching closer. He thought he would have more time. Michael could see the heroin.
It was now being refilled and passed to him. It had a beautiful brown glow. He started to sweat profusely. Michael felt the needle in his hand and felt the old familiar comfort that it held inside. The scars on his arms throbbed for the needle.
With a push of the plunger this whole argument could be over. No more battling, no more being torn. His heart was a freight train, and Michael’s brain was in utter disarray. Images that were supposed to protect him leaked out of his brain. His family…his job…his--all he felt was the hunger, the beast pounding at his door.
Let me in! Give me entrance!
Time seemed to slow down. A candle’s flame poised one direction and never returning to it’s a point of origin. A water drop suspended in air. Michael could see the syringe bearing down on his arm. He could feel the comfortable pinprick point touching the crook of his elbow. Creating an indention without puncture. The needle point created a cold, yet warm, vibe throughout his body.
Then, the bars came uncaged, the door not only opened but shredded to sand. The needle slid into his vein with a slow familiar ease. It was done as fast as it started. Michael’s vision blurred as the fluid flooded his body. His heart slowed. Darkness fell. His breaths became shallow and the real world faded.
Life is cruel and sometimes fate gives no second chances. Michael fell deeper and deeper into his sleep. An eternal sleep that was doomed to never end.