Maya Blumenfeld
Staff Writer

It would all be over soon. She felt a scalding pressure erupt from the center of her chest and rush through her windpipe, exploding into the alleyway. The sun had died down hours ago and the city was now overdosed in a darkness she had just filled herself with. In the tranquility of the night, she could almost hear the pop of her vein as it made contact with the needle, blood instantly trickling down her leg. Gripping her thigh, she thrust the syringe further. She withdrew the cry waiting to be exhaled from within her and managed to keep her pain latent. Almost immediately, her agony melted into pleasure, her suffering vaporized into euphoria. The cries of the voices no longer swirled around her, no longer mocking her grief. A stinging sensation dragged itself up to her bust, but ecstasy had already intoxicated her body. She scrambled to her feet, scratching her legs against the wire fence she had been crouching beside. Lines of gashes tore open on her skin, exposing her poisoned blood. Dizzying elation pulled her body past the stoned roads and passed-out drunkards. Her legs seemed to drag themselves, as though wherever she went, she had been before. She then made out something sprawled across the street, not knowing exactly what it was, thinking it was probably roadkill. Before her eyes could adjust, the unknown lump began reassembling itself, its rotting patches of flesh melding back together. She fell to the ground and scrambled backwards, away from the corpse, or whatever it was. A stroke of pain suddenly shot her in the chest. She gripped her fingers tightly around the pole nearby to pull herself up to her feet, and she crept towards the body. The leathery monstrosity slumped a few feet away from her suddenly turned its head to face her, and the rest of its limbs followed in turn. The corpse rose, and she could see every one of its crevices suffocated with every powder, needle, and pill, that she had ever gotten hooked on. All that she had ever taken or smoked was violently spilled onto the dusty road, making it her own crime scene. The corpse simply gaped at the grotesque mass of drugs flooding from the ever-expanding hole in its stomach. One by one, each of her addictions exploded, leaving bursts of blood splattered on the street. The blood shot through her body like bullets from an enemy’s gun, one hitting her squarely in the eye and throwing her off-balance. She fell, landing on her knees in a puddle of the explosion’s remains. All she could manage to do was drag herself through the blood, only ripping open more of her own wounds, leaving trails of darker red behind her. She froze as, without warning, her body spasmed at the sounds of the voices begging to her, though she had already become familiar with their cries. They grew louder as puffs of toxic vapor began to suffocate her. Smoke trickled into her eyes and oozed into her ears, the moans becoming more painful to listen to. She clamped her hands over the sides of her head until nail marks streaked the sides of her face. It was not long before another hit broke into her core. Each blood vein in her body popped. A dose of vertigo abruptly drugged her system. The swirling flashes of colors and the sharp noises then, simultaneously, came to a halt. Slowly, liquid ecstasy began to fill up the cuts engraved into her legs. The substance of euphoria crawled inside the cracks in her skin and squeezed itself into every working vessel in her body, causing each one to burst. It slid up through her arteries, until finally reaching her heart. Every drop of the fluid gathered into the organ, making themselves at home. She lay herself down on the crumbling trail. High on the silence, she calmly lowered her eyelids and waited. It would all be over soon.


Originally Published in Bandersnatch Vol. 48 Issue 03 on October 10, 2018