Break the Cycle
Chance Hensley
November 29, 2005
Drugs ran the city. Junkies lined the allys, needles sparkled in the cold moonlight like a shattered collage. A colloge of broken promises and shattered dreams. Each syringe symbolizing a lost loved one or mabye a hurt child, in the minds eye, screaming and yelling, wanting to break the cycle. Kill the epidemic that was tearing the city down brick by brick.
This city was Brian Sullivan's brain. He heard the screams, the sad sighs, and the anguished cries for closure. It was the whole reason he filled another syringe, another needle, and ingected his own personal remedy, sending it crashing through his blood stream, bringing a beautiful, peaceful haze on it's heels.
This man had been succesful in his life, before the drugs or course. He had had a beautiful wife, excellent and intelligent children, an outstanding credit redord, and a great job. Then, he got sick. It wasn't a sickness of body, it was a sickness of the mind. He had everything, yet his life was empty. He had a loving wife, but suddenly, he couldn't love her anymore. His children, his beautiful, bright eyed children made him more proud that they knew, but he couldn't express how he felt.
His buzz was hitting him hard and heavy now, sending him reeling in melancholy thoughts, as it always did. The drug was like a double baned sword, his salvation and his curse. His prison, and his freedom.
Today, the prison bars loomed, seemingly grinning at him, daring him to break loose. To break the cycle. His thoughts became garbled and hazy. He couldn't get those three words out of his head.
Break the cycle
Break the cycle
Break the cycle
The buzzing in his head had become unbearable, driving him mad. The words ran through his head again, bringing excrutiating pain with them. Something was wrong. He had to stop it. Brian was frantic, not paying attention to what he was doing. He found his fingers sticky around the syringe. A warm red river flowed down his arm before reaching his fingertips, where it fell, hitting the bed, then cascading to the floor.
And still, the words buzzed.
BREAK the cycle
BREAK THE cycle
BREAK THE CYCLE
Suddenly, Brian found a gun in his hand. He must have got it from the lockbox under his bed, but the pain was so intense; so white hot and blinding, that he didn't care. The only thing that mattered at that moment was killing the pain, ending it for good.
The gun rested perfectly against the side of his head, seemingly made for this one moment, this fleck of time's never-ending life. He wanted peace and quiet, but most of all, he wanted an escape from the pain.
There was no sound, and no more pain, only complete black. Everything was gone, and he would drift in this nothingness forever, in peace.
______________
_____
/!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!\
/!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!RIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!\
/!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!\
|!!!!!!!!Break the cycle!!!!!!!!|
|!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!|
|!!!!!!!!!Find a better!!!!!!!!!!|
|!!!!!!!!!!!!!!way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!|
|!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!|
|!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!|
|!!!!!!!!!!!!!~***~!!!!!!!!!!!!!|
___|!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!|________________
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