Push (Josh Ramsay)

And you're getting stuck

*8 Hours remaining*

I had to stop and take breaks as I walked. Especially with the state of my muscles, it was far too intense without the surge of adrenaline responsible for my journey to the woods. With each break I had to take the pressure in my gut intensified. All the things that had created this mess I was in built up just beneath my throat. It bubbled beneath me — the running, pushing, heroin, and most importantly, Josh.

It was all Josh.
His toxic touch and poisonous eyes licked at my throat begging for release. His lips of liquor and voice of sex brewed beneath the surface filling my body with acidic regrets.

It was all Josh. The climax was coming.

*6 hours remaining*

The lethargy and muscle pain had continued to intensify. My knees shook as I walked and breaks became more and more frequent and prolonged. My muscles ached, but not as much as my heart did. My heart ached for his addictive smile. My heart ached for the way his thumped against mine. My heart ached for him.

*4 hours remaining*

I wasn't sure I could continue walking. I hurt. I felt so incredibly sick I figured it wasn't long before I lost it. My survival at this point essentially hinged on people looking for me.

I was cold as hell. I was colder than our goodbyes. I was colder than the frost that was now settling across the damp leaves. I shivered. I shivered more than I did when he trailed his finger down my spine. I shivered more than I did those nights I spent looking for him. I shivered more than I did at the thought of losing him.

*2 hours remaining*

After hours of tiresome walking, the feeling pressing on my stomach became too strong to fight and the profanities mixed with the acidic taste of withdrawal. I slumped to my knees and salt began joining the assortment of flavors in my mouth.  I was ready to give up. I laid my head down on the muddy forest floor, no longer caring about my hair. My muscles were far too weak to move so I laid there getting stuck in the slowly crystalizing mud and cried. Tears tickled at my face and fell into the ever growing bed of frost.

*time's up*

I was sick.
Sicker than I'd ever been.
Sicker than the time I caught the swine flu.
Sicker than the time I overdosed.
At this point I was a slobbering, sick, disaster of a person. I was hardly a person at all.

Darkness wrapped its arms around my waist, and dragged me below the surface of the pool of withdrawal.  Addiction licked at my bones and pulled on my limbs. Reality shook my bones as I convulsed on the ground and finally, settled into darkness.