66: I'm A Functional Addict

*I shuffle in bed, a cold naked body lays alongside me, curved against my back. Just the touch of his skin gives me goosebumps. I’m not surprised at how I got here or how he got here. It’s another dream to get me through my rough days and nights. The anxiousness I feel struggling with my withdrawal washes away as I lay there relishing in his touch as his fingers trail down my body.

This is the third time he’s come to me in my semi unconscious stupor. Delusions and illusions of our separation that play tricks on my clouded mind.
My body moves without my brain telling it as if it knows what it wants, what it needs. It needs Gabriel even though my head screams run. I shove against him to lay on my back and he takes the unsaid hint to slip himself between my legs leaving no space between us. He’s gentle and no matter how much I push harder against him seeking the roughness of his vampire strength to manhandle me to the point of oblivion it never happens.

I just brush it off, not putting too much thought into it. All that matters is that he’s making me feel better, that he gets rid of the pain from being apart. That high-as-a-kite feeling silences my brain. It’s only once I wake up that I regret it.

Gabriel runs a fingernail across his chest, inches above his nipple. A thick trickle of blood oozes from the small cut. “Take it Hazel. It’ll make you feel better.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice before my mouth latches onto him. A stray thought slips through, I want to feel better. Having him penetratingly close to me is nothing compared to the relief I get once his blood touches my tongue. The harder I suck the harder he thrusts. It doesn’t take long before I’m overtaken by pure, heartstopping pleasure.

We lay side by side, his arms wrapped around me until I fall asleep.*

I wake up without him, my regretful behavior tightens my chest. How can I be so stupid? I make up excuse after excuse trying to make myself feel better for the lapse of judgment.

The days are fuzzy and the dreams are strong. Gretchen and everyone else that comes to visit can’t quite meet my eyes. All they see when they look at me is the agony that I endure during my detox. I remember faces, coming and going, whispers on their lips, but nothing else.

And I’m fine with that. I would rather not remember any of it, I would rather not feel the despair everytime I think about it, which only leads to stray thoughts of Gabriel in passing. Thoughts that rip me inside out when I’m awake, thoughts that lead to daydreams.

Today, two full weeks later, I’ve been granted to put my big girl pants back on. “I’m fine, Gretchen, really.” She lingers at the door, not sure if she should leave or stay or take me back to her house. “Really. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” I recall the last time I told her that, told Monty that. I didn’t come back. I shake the thought away.

“Fine, but I want you to be careful. Things are getting worse out there.” She gives me a smile before leaving me alone.

I never used to be antsy or nervous about being alone. I always kinda liked it, but since becoming a prisoner something inside me changed, something made me more clingy. It’s to be expected, but I push it away so fiercely that it begins to get worse, which terrifies me because it feels as if only one person in the world can make it better happens to be the same person I should stay away from.

I stay home with all the lights out, pretending to be gone. I pour a layer of fresh repellent along the threshold and all the windows at least four times before I slump down onto the couch. As if that would work, as if that would keep him out.

The sun shines brightly through the living room window slowly waking me. I stretch my stiff limbs from falling asleep on the couch. I make a mental note to never have it happen again. I already feel like crap, why make it worse.

It’s time to stay true to my word and head to work. My empty stomach gurgles for food, but once food touches my mouth I instantly become nauseous. Coffee will do. For not eating for several days and only getting soup or bread for the past two weeks, you would think I would be skinny, like sickly skinny, but my stomach has a little, stubborn pooch. I shrug it off. Belly fat has always been hard to get rid of.

The streets are lined with Peace, Love and Blood posters. Except now, some have Phillip’s eyes blacked out, blood running down his chin, or have a large red X over the whole thing. The rioter who sprayed it put it on thick so the red drips along the slash resembling wet blood.

If I thought the days before the attack were bad, I was wrong. In the matter of fourteen days things got fourteen times worse. The shop is packed with Demizens by the time I get there, but I don’t waste a second before getting to work. And even though selling repellent got me into my previous predicament, I go back to it.

The day goes by without Brooklyn showing up, without Gabriel showing up, without any vampire showing up...that I know of. Gretchen keeps me in my room slaving away over my potion, out of sight and out of snatching distance and maybe out of running away distance too.

She checks on me several times. Her eyes scan my body searching for something to tell her I’m too sick to work. Either she doesn’t see it or she respects my choice to push through it.

It starts to get dark too quickly and things become heavier. I tune out the buzz of customers coming from the sales floor, Monty hollering for one more vial, but there’s no ignoring Caleb’s looming body. “You’re ride is here.” He chimes as I face him.

“You don’t have-”

“Actually, yes I do.” He grabs my purse off the far cabinet. “We need to make sure you make it home on your first night back out on your own.”
“How thoughtful of you.” I reply even though I know it’s probably Gretchen that insisted it be done.

We say our goodbyes even though the shop is still open for another hour, but apparently they want me out, so I don’t argue. I leave and get into Caleb’s car without a word. I even let him walk me to my apartment door where he’s slammed to a halt when he tries to enter.

“No one told you that I’m staying.” Caleb says with a lightheartedness.

“I didn’t think you would want to.” I regret the words after they leave my mouth. “I mean you’ve been...angry with me.”

“You’ve been pretty stupid lately, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t make sure you’re safe. And not the kind of safe your super impressive repellent gives you.” He kicks at the invincible barrier.

“Safe from myself.” I pinch my lips together to keep my snappy reply to myself. I get it. I’m weak and still very much connected to Gabriel. The massive amounts of blood, his blood he pumped into my body still remains. Sometimes, I think it’ll forever be seared into my DNA.

I’m a functional addict. One that relies on daydreams to get by and lives on shame. My mind races with all the stories we hear of people being fed too much vampire blood. Quinn’s friend being one. The craziness they endure, the desperation that consumes them. That can’t be me...can it?
Caleb talks through my wandering thoughts. “I would say we could invite Avery, but…”

“She shouldn’t be out late at night anymore. It’s fine. Come in.” I throw my purse on the table like I usually do and head to the bedroom, “I’m just gonna change”.

When I come out Caleb is nowhere in sight. My heart picks up pace a little before I spot him on the couch. That pesky antsy, anxiousness floods in at the thought of being alone again.

I quickly join him, plopping down next to him and immediately regret it. Maybe I’m too close. I scoot over a little bit creating a small gap between us. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t bring it up or maybe he prefers it. But sitting next to Caleb is nothing compared to sitting next to Gabriel.

We watch a show of Caleb’s choosing, it’s something I’ve never heard of. After a couple hours my head drops down and I quickly snap it back up, my eyes wide with embarrassment. I will not fall asleep on the couch tonight.

“You should get to bed.” Caleb says calling me out on it.

I shoot to my feet so fast that I nearly tip over. Caleb with his quick reflexes catches me. “You’ve never been good on your feet.” He teases.
We stand there, silent, staring at each other. And we forget all the drama and lies and everyone that came between us. It’s me and him like it used to be. His hand glides along my jawline, sweeping my hair back away from my face. He leans down and places a soft kiss to my lips.

And for the briefest of seconds, Gabriel flashes before my eyes and a painful electric shock jolts my body. A mixture of hate and need that I can’t seem to handle.

“You should get to bed.” Caleb repeats before he lays on the couch, closing his eyes, sending me away.

Sleep is nonexistent. Fears of dreams and visitations kept my brain on high alert all night. Tonight I refuse to dream of Gabriel while Caleb is here. It isn’t fair to him and it’s something that shouldn’t be happening in the first place.

It takes a great effort to drag myself out of bed in the morning, but once I do I find Caleb making breakfast. The sudden smell of eggs flips my stomach. In a manic rush, I run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet before vomit spews from my mouth.

Caleb lingers in the doorway and I quickly clean myself up. “It’s fine. I’ve been sick since I got back from the manor.”

“It’s gonna take awhile to get back to normal, but you will. I promise.” Caleb says before he leaves me to finish breakfast that I probably won’t be able to eat.

He sticks around and brings me to work. He doesn’t bring up my sickness to Gretchen, because she knows all too well. She’s been cleaning up my puke the two weeks I stayed with her. Apparently, vampire blood withdrawals are pretty much the same as drug withdrawals.

The schedule for the day is the same. I work on nothing by repellent, Caleb picks me up, stays the night, brings me to work and does it over and over and over again.

The weeks are tiresome and long and with no further dreams of Gabriel an exhaustion engulfs me and I feel as if I’m taking four steps back to my one step forward. To make everything worse, the riots are increasing, violence is breaking out. Groupies are snatching people, haters are stalking demizens, unaware that not only vampires exist.

And the panic doesn’t stop, my secrets and deception doesn’t stop. It’s a better night than any seeing as Caleb had to meet Dravon. I’m surprised he left me alone, he must be pleased with my false progress. I send a quick text to Avery and she rushes over, bag in hand.

“Hi.” She says nervously as I invite her in. Her eyes immediately go to my stomach. “Are you sure?” She quickly continues trying to make her accusation not seem hateful. “I mean it would be cool..I guess...maybe…” Her words trail off.

“Yeah, so cool Avery.” I grab the bag and head to the bathroom. I don’t need to pee on the stick. I know just by staring at my extended belly. I’m a mini-Brooklyn, something I didn’t want to be.

Avery and I sit silently side by side on the couch before she asks, “do you want me to look?”

“No.” I reply, but I don’t want to look either. She elbows me and I reluctantly get to my feet. I holler my regret from the bathroom, “oh, shit.”

She hops to her feet, rushing into the bathroom, torn between feeling excited and horrified. Me too, I want to tell her, me too. What I do tell her is, “do not tell anyone.” I snap. “No one Avery, no one.”

“Promise.” She quickly says clearly scared of me.

“I’m sorry, I just need...I need to figure this out.” My hands pull at my hair. If only it could help me think this through, figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do.

“Your secret is safe with me.” She pats my shoulder. “Wanna watch something gory and gruesome?”

“Always.” I reply with a sheepish smile.