Love, Death, and Rebirth (Part II of III)

Black
Then…
Eternal darkness
Then…
Black, empty consciousness
Then…
Warmth?
Then…
Recognition of self.
Then…
A presence
Behind me
Then…
Development of sense of self
Then…
Red, red, red, RED, RED, RED, RED!!!!

I explode from the womb of rebirth into the light of my bedroom. I’m on my back with the bright light of my ceiling fan blinding me. Is it my ceiling light? Where am I? Who are these people in blue suits? What is this IV putting into my body? I’m numb. I can see my body, but I can’t feel it. I can’t move! Why can’t I move!? My toes, my feet, my legs, my torso, my arms, my fingers, my mouth! I cannot move anything except for my frantically searching eyes. Who am I? Who are you? Who am I? Who are you? Can you remember your name? She’s speaking to me. The lady in the blue suit was asking me. She had brown hair and a soft demeanor about her face. Her face was positioned in the top left of my perception. I hear beeping to my right. There’s a man with short hair kneeled down next to me rummaging through a bag. I look further up to my left, and see my mother standing in the doorway to my room. My heart sank into my loins. Behind her were two gluttonous-looking police officers. One was a woman with very manly features, and the other was a man who looked like a fat woman — or was my vision still double? Too many people around me.

“Do you know what your name is?” she said, her voice was getting more demanding with each passing second.

“Of course–,” My chest began to spasm with violet bursts of mucus erupting from the depths of my lungs, “of course, my name is Brandon.”

A plastic, cold mask was then thrusted against my face, covering my mouth and nose. A very agreeable cold air filled my lungs as I inhaled. They were giving me oxygen, but I don’t need oxygen, there’s plenty in the air. Maybe if a few people left, the air wouldn’t be so thick. Why are there so many people in my bedroom? This is my chamber, my kingdom. As if my falling asleep allowed all these strangers to barge in and take control of my universe. Who are you? That’s what I should’ve been asking all these strangers around me.

“Look, I appreciate why you’re here, but I’m fine.”

“You were dead.”

“…oh,” after a slight hesitation I said, “I’m ok now though. Thank you.”

“Did you do heroin?”

“No, well…,” I began to wonder why I just lied.

“Brandon, I need to know what you did. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. For your mother’s sake, how about you just tell me where the needle is?” This seemed to be a reasonable compromise. For some reason, telling a room full of strangers that I had just done heroin was an impossible task to accomplish.

“The needle is on my desk.”

“Ok, I’m going to take you out of your high now. We’re going to use some Nar-,”

“You’re going to what!? No… don’t… please.”

“We’re going to take you out now.”

“But, I feel so good right now.”

Red engulfed me again in the form of agonizing warmth and again I emerged, screaming into yet another birth. The pain I experienced did not start as pain, it started as a pleasant, tepid rush flowing throughout the miles of veins within my body. I felt this warmth enter all parts of my body, and it actually felt good… for a few seconds. The warmth started to boil to a extreme heat, which immediately made me quite anxious for this experience to be done with. My body began to shake a bit violently as I continued to cough and spit up thick mucus of some kind. I have come to understand that this chemical they shot me up with had the purpose of pulling all the heroin molecules out of the receptors in my brain. This, to me, must be what fast forwarding your withdrawal would feel like.

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