Climbing from rock-bottom

She held the cigarette in her right palm

It had seemed foreign until now

She shouldn’t do this; hadn’t done it in a long while,  but she couldn’t find the strength to stop.

She reached out for the lighter,  her fingers trembling as she drew closer.

‘You don’t have to’, a low,  small voice pleaded.

‘But you can’t help it’, a louder voice said.  ‘You’re addicted. It’s a matter of fact. ‘

With the lighter now in her hand, she flicked the flame on and off. Her heart began pounding from the war raging in her head.

She felt dizzy,  yet she managed to keep herself steady; the flames from the lighter gradually forming a haze. The lighter was dangerously close to the cigarette, but the cigarette had not been lit.

‘Just do it already,  you can’t – you won’t – go back now’

‘You can; you haven’t done it yet.  Stop now. ‘

‘You can’t stop. Do it. ‘

‘You can.  Stop. ‘

‘You can’t. ‘

‘You can. ‘

‘Do it.’

‘Don’t. ‘

‘Do it.’

‘Stop. ‘

‘Do it.’

With a strength that was far beyond her, she threw the lighter down. The cigarette just seemed to follow suit.

Her body was too weak to stay up,  so she fell back to her bed,  all her strength seeping from her body. She couldn’t even cry. Or laugh.  It was too complicated.

 

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