MADMAN'S HAVEN

1

The mirror in front of me reflected my appearance in the most intriguing way, and I smiled at myself in a dirty way as I enjoyed the picture of myself being so gloriously high.

The bathroom spun around me, and the otherwise white tiles on the wall changed in color as I looked around me.

As I moved my head in different angles around the room, the tiles appeared like gasoline in colors. It was distracting and fascinating, how the colors changed from emerald green to indigo, fading out in antwerp blue and turning into cuprite.

It was beautiful, and yet another reason for me to get high again.

Interrupted from my deep distraction, I felt a pair of big hands placing my waist. I faded back to reality and let my focus work on acting sober instead.

I smiled at the man behind me in the mirror. His hands made me feel warm and safe, and his white smile made me feel appreciated with attention.

"Are you ready to go?"

His friendly voice suited his kind self.

My bad conscience hit me like a slap over the face with the way I knew I was just using him, but left as fast again as the lust took over my body.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder to reach his ear with my playful lips.

"Not just yet," I whispered as I slowly turned around to meet with his lips.

The blood rushed through me as our tounges began to dance, and the arousal grew harder with every second.

The soft hands that grabbed my hips made me desperate. I needed intimacy, I needed a rush, and someone to take care of me. Every touch and every kiss felt so much more euphoric compared to being sober, and I didn't complain.

The only time I was close to feeling the extreme satisfaction and pleasure I once felt, was when I let the drugs slowly get into my veins and poison me to arousal and affection. But the experience was never the same as it was with him, because it wasn't him anymore.

After I started dating Donald a couple of weeks ago, I felt less lonely. I knew I wasn't ready for a relationship or that I wouldn't be able to fall in love, but I needed someone to be close to me, someone who could take care of me in a way that Dolores and Vincent couldn't.

I never meant to use Donald for intimacy or attention, but it was hard as he was so close and easily seduced.

He was so easy to convince since I was already aware of his interest in me.

It all just started with a dinner date. Dolores already had plans that night, and I needed company and someone to get drunk with, so I called Donald, and then it was too late.

He wouldn't stop asking me out afterward, and I was satisfied with the attention that I got from him.

He made me feel happy, and he made me think about other things than the traumatic situations I had been through just two months earlier, so I started to hang out with him.

I made it clear to him that I was not ready to commit myself to anyone, and he agreed happily with his blindness and told me that he respected that.

He told me that he wouldn't get hurt if I wanted to stop, or started seeing someone else, but I didn't believe him even for a second.

The dates quickly turned from red wine and delicious dinners, into sexual intercourse and physical intimacy.

I needed it.

Even if I was not in love with Donald, and knew that I never would be, I enjoyed his company and his ways of taking care of me. The sexual part was something I truly needed as a part of my recovery, and he gave it to me. So after my statement that he so clearly respected and understood, I saw no reason to stop with what we were doing...

My insides exploded as I reached the climax from his movements, and I shivered with pleasure as I let a quiet moan out to boost every emotion.

The explosion rushed over me like electricity and just as fast as it appeared, it vanished again.

I just wanted him to get off me. I was done and got what I wanted. It felt good for me as it always did, but it was nothing more than that.

Just pleasure.

I jumped off the cold bathroom counter and pulled the skirt from my dress down over my body again, and put on a new pair of white underwear before I took one last look in the mirror.

My pupils were tiny black, which made my brown eyes appear lighter in color. My cheeks were rosy from the heat, and my hair was messed up from the previous hairstyle.

I grabbed my brush from the cabinet over the sink and gently started to brush my hair into place again.

One part of me felt disgusted with myself, I knew what I was doing, but I was just denying it. The other part felt proud and satisfied with succeeding in getting my needs from a man.

There was nothing wrong with feeling the need of intimacy. Intercourse was something normal, and it was indeed a part of every adult's life. It was a fact that it brung endorphins and made you feel happier, more confidential, and energic.

It was healthy, and I wanted to be healthy.

"We should go," I said with short words as I looked at Donald, who was already waiting for me in the hallway.

He smiled as he looked at me, but I didn't care enough to smile back. In fact, there was no reason for me to smile, because I didn't feel happy enough to embrace it with an expression.

I grabbed my beige trench coat and put my white nurse shoes on before we both left my apartment to head for another long day at the institution.

The chilly November air hit my face as I stepped out the door, and I shrugged as the goosebumps covered my skin.

The clouds in the sky were grey, and close to let the rain come through and fall down over us.

It was depressing.

Donald opened the car door for me, and I sat down in the black covered passenger seat of his green Morris Minor.

As he got in behind the steering wheel, he started the engine, and pulled the gas to begin the ride to the harrowing and appalling hospital.

I kept my eyes out of the window the whole time. I didn't want to speak with Donald, and I wanted to keep my attention away from him.

The anxiety crawled up on me as we got closer and closer with every minute. I wanted to throw up every time I was on my way to work. It just never got easier with the emotions.

I tried to focus on the calming effect of the morphine that was still rushing inside of my veins, but it was difficult since the anxiety was so intense with torture.

I knew that I would settle as I got there, but the built-up fright of approaching the building of horror never seemed to leave my body, no matter how hard I tried or how high I was.