IAmJacksUserName
Bluelighter
Heroin in the Evening
Norman anxiously waited for the acceptance e-mail from Harvard, for attending Harvard had been his dream for many years. He spent his high school career maintaining a 3.8 GPA, excelling in drama and It’s Academic, and impressing his teachers and the guidance counselors at his school. All of his teachers loved him, not just for his polite demeanor, but for his sincerity. He was always honest and respectable, and this hadn’t gone unnoticed by neither his peers nor by the adults in Norman’s life. All of what he had accomplished over the past four years was about to pay off, or so he hoped.
He sat on his desk chair, constantly checking every five minutes to see if he had received his e-mail from the admission‘s office at Harvard. But every time he checked, he was left in suspense by the lack of an e-mail. The stress was enormous. He needed something to distract him for a few hours, just until he got word from Harvard. Thinking through possible activities, he knew of one thing that could definitely help him relax and enjoy the evening.
He locked the door to his bedroom, as to not be interrupted by his family during what was to proceed. He opened the top drawer to his desk, and removed the small lockbox that was in there. It was inside the lockbox that he kept his stash of drugs. At the moment, there were a few hits of acid, a pill of MDMA, and about a gram of heroin. He went straight for the heroin, and began to prepare for injection.
From a similar lockbox in his desk, Norman retrieved the spoon he used for such occasions, a bottle of sterile saline solution, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a syringe. He then scrubbed the inside of the spoon with a tissue doused with the rubbing alcohol. After he was convinced that the spoon was clean, he added the proper amount of heroin. He was able to eyeball the correct dosage without properly measuring it, for he had been using H for seven months, and had a good idea of how much he needed. When he finished adding the dose, he added the sterile saline solution to the spoon, and mixed the concoction with the syringe’s plunger. When the heroin had dissolved, he heated the liquid by placing a lighter underneath the bottom of the spoon. He allowed it to heat until the contents began to bubble, and then he then placed a cotton ball into the solution. He stuck his syringe into the drug-soaked cotton ball, and proceeded to draw the liquid into it through the tip of his needle. At that, the syringe was prepped and ready to use.
Norman proceeded to sterilize his right forearm with the rubbing alcohol. When he finished, he took an elastic band from his desk and wrapped it around his forearm until he felt his veins bulge. That being completed, Norman was ready to inject.
He held the barrel of the syringe almost parallel to his skin, with the needle pointing toward his elbow, as to inject with the flow of blood. When he had the needle positioned correctly, he proceeded to carefully insert it into his vein. When he thought that he had fully penetrated the vein’s wall, he pulled back on the plunger, and a crimson cloud of blood entered his syringe, signaling to Norman that he was ready. He pushed the plunger all the way down, filling his bloodstream with the smack. When the syringe was empty, he drew some blood back through the needle, and re-injected it into his vein, as to allow the blood to rinse any remaining heroin left in the syringe into his bloodstream. He then slowly withdrew the needle from his flesh, and took the elastic band off. In this instant, he began to nod off.
As Norman sank into his desk chair, he felt an enormous sense of warmth, security, and freedom overwhelm his system- nothing that anyone could feel while sober. It was like being immersed in warm liquid. He felt the way you feel when you tuck yourself into a warm bed after being in a snowstorm all day, although much stronger. He was incredibly apathetic- Harvard didn’t matter to him. In fact, in that moment, he was glad that he might not get in. He felt like the admission board was trying to make him anxious, trying to stress him out, but that they were failing to do so. He just smiled, because the rest of the world was outside of this drug-induced perspective, an experience that he felt only he was invited to. All of his problems felt like they had been dismantled- they were still present, yet he felt indifferent to them. The heroin made him feel untouchable, for he was engulfed in absolute nothingness.
A few hours later, Norman was beginning to sober up. He still felt somewhat different, yet most of the security and warmth was gone. At any rate, it was time for him to return to the real world. One might say that he had taken a break from reality, and he needed to get back to his life, such as waiting for the e-mail from Harvard. To Norman, drug use was like eating. It was as if he had just stuffed himself, and he knew that it was time to stop. This mentality was how Norman had successfully used drugs only at an occasional, recreational level. For this reason, he didn’t really have any understanding, nor sympathy, for addicts. After all, he figured, didn’t they know when enough was enough? If he could avoid addiction, why couldn’t they?
As he put away his gear, he checked his e-mail. There was a new e-mail, with the sender labeled as the “Harvard Dean of Admission”. Taking a deep breath, he began reading the e-mail:
Dear Norman: I take great pleasure in offering you admission to Harvard University’s class of 2009.”
Upon reading this first sentence, Norman let out his breath, and again felt invulnerable. After he finished reading and re-reading his admission letter, Norman began putting away his gear (He felt too excited to wash it right away, as he usually did following drug sessions involving injections). At the same moment that he dropped his syringe into the lockbox, Norman flushed with pride over his accomplishment, and began to contemplate his surely successful future.
http://www.fictionpress.com/read.php?storyid=1978664
I'm curious what you guys have to say. The description of heroin is based almost entirely on what I've read on Erowid and on Bluelight- I've never tried the drug myself. I'm curious to as how well I've described it.
Norman anxiously waited for the acceptance e-mail from Harvard, for attending Harvard had been his dream for many years. He spent his high school career maintaining a 3.8 GPA, excelling in drama and It’s Academic, and impressing his teachers and the guidance counselors at his school. All of his teachers loved him, not just for his polite demeanor, but for his sincerity. He was always honest and respectable, and this hadn’t gone unnoticed by neither his peers nor by the adults in Norman’s life. All of what he had accomplished over the past four years was about to pay off, or so he hoped.
He sat on his desk chair, constantly checking every five minutes to see if he had received his e-mail from the admission‘s office at Harvard. But every time he checked, he was left in suspense by the lack of an e-mail. The stress was enormous. He needed something to distract him for a few hours, just until he got word from Harvard. Thinking through possible activities, he knew of one thing that could definitely help him relax and enjoy the evening.
He locked the door to his bedroom, as to not be interrupted by his family during what was to proceed. He opened the top drawer to his desk, and removed the small lockbox that was in there. It was inside the lockbox that he kept his stash of drugs. At the moment, there were a few hits of acid, a pill of MDMA, and about a gram of heroin. He went straight for the heroin, and began to prepare for injection.
From a similar lockbox in his desk, Norman retrieved the spoon he used for such occasions, a bottle of sterile saline solution, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a syringe. He then scrubbed the inside of the spoon with a tissue doused with the rubbing alcohol. After he was convinced that the spoon was clean, he added the proper amount of heroin. He was able to eyeball the correct dosage without properly measuring it, for he had been using H for seven months, and had a good idea of how much he needed. When he finished adding the dose, he added the sterile saline solution to the spoon, and mixed the concoction with the syringe’s plunger. When the heroin had dissolved, he heated the liquid by placing a lighter underneath the bottom of the spoon. He allowed it to heat until the contents began to bubble, and then he then placed a cotton ball into the solution. He stuck his syringe into the drug-soaked cotton ball, and proceeded to draw the liquid into it through the tip of his needle. At that, the syringe was prepped and ready to use.
Norman proceeded to sterilize his right forearm with the rubbing alcohol. When he finished, he took an elastic band from his desk and wrapped it around his forearm until he felt his veins bulge. That being completed, Norman was ready to inject.
He held the barrel of the syringe almost parallel to his skin, with the needle pointing toward his elbow, as to inject with the flow of blood. When he had the needle positioned correctly, he proceeded to carefully insert it into his vein. When he thought that he had fully penetrated the vein’s wall, he pulled back on the plunger, and a crimson cloud of blood entered his syringe, signaling to Norman that he was ready. He pushed the plunger all the way down, filling his bloodstream with the smack. When the syringe was empty, he drew some blood back through the needle, and re-injected it into his vein, as to allow the blood to rinse any remaining heroin left in the syringe into his bloodstream. He then slowly withdrew the needle from his flesh, and took the elastic band off. In this instant, he began to nod off.
As Norman sank into his desk chair, he felt an enormous sense of warmth, security, and freedom overwhelm his system- nothing that anyone could feel while sober. It was like being immersed in warm liquid. He felt the way you feel when you tuck yourself into a warm bed after being in a snowstorm all day, although much stronger. He was incredibly apathetic- Harvard didn’t matter to him. In fact, in that moment, he was glad that he might not get in. He felt like the admission board was trying to make him anxious, trying to stress him out, but that they were failing to do so. He just smiled, because the rest of the world was outside of this drug-induced perspective, an experience that he felt only he was invited to. All of his problems felt like they had been dismantled- they were still present, yet he felt indifferent to them. The heroin made him feel untouchable, for he was engulfed in absolute nothingness.
A few hours later, Norman was beginning to sober up. He still felt somewhat different, yet most of the security and warmth was gone. At any rate, it was time for him to return to the real world. One might say that he had taken a break from reality, and he needed to get back to his life, such as waiting for the e-mail from Harvard. To Norman, drug use was like eating. It was as if he had just stuffed himself, and he knew that it was time to stop. This mentality was how Norman had successfully used drugs only at an occasional, recreational level. For this reason, he didn’t really have any understanding, nor sympathy, for addicts. After all, he figured, didn’t they know when enough was enough? If he could avoid addiction, why couldn’t they?
As he put away his gear, he checked his e-mail. There was a new e-mail, with the sender labeled as the “Harvard Dean of Admission”. Taking a deep breath, he began reading the e-mail:
Dear Norman: I take great pleasure in offering you admission to Harvard University’s class of 2009.”
Upon reading this first sentence, Norman let out his breath, and again felt invulnerable. After he finished reading and re-reading his admission letter, Norman began putting away his gear (He felt too excited to wash it right away, as he usually did following drug sessions involving injections). At the same moment that he dropped his syringe into the lockbox, Norman flushed with pride over his accomplishment, and began to contemplate his surely successful future.
http://www.fictionpress.com/read.php?storyid=1978664
I'm curious what you guys have to say. The description of heroin is based almost entirely on what I've read on Erowid and on Bluelight- I've never tried the drug myself. I'm curious to as how well I've described it.
