Darkness could shroud and distort the most vibrant of colours and obscure the busy life’s of a packed city. A dark cloud hovered over my head, drenching me with every negative splash of rain, as I moved quickly to get to a place of shelter, out of the rain that made my clothes heavy like the burden I carried everyday, my eyes adjusted as it seemed I had lost my way. These streets had been around since I was a boy, I use to play up by those block of flats back when the only room was a hazardous block of wood barely attached to a tree- those were all cut down, along with the blissful joy of youth.

I hadn’t been out for a long time, everything seemed more dehumanised than when I was last in these streets. Living as a hermit for 2 decades I’d expected change, not an overhaul that rendered my memories useless in my mind, the landscapes I remembered were reshaped and not at all to my taste. I bitterly scoff at all the fancy technological advanced shops that now littered my walk home, as I remember a humble pet store that stood where this obscene virtual land danced on it’s grave. The mind correlated change with the negative emotions that had been festering for over half a life time. Finally I reached my hide away, the safe space from the horrors of the outside world, only to be trapped within a prison of my own making. The festering continued as I idly sat in the uncomfortable leather brown chair the colour of which only added to the dull greys of the walls and the plain old shabby installed flooring, only to remind me how shallow my life really was.

I arched towards the patch I held in my hands, I put this on and joy would suddenly return to my life- you could actually buy emotions now. I contemplated the option to place the blasted thing on my forearm, I’d grown so accustomed to this mental state that it felt like cheating to just plaster my wounds as if the trauma never happened. I glance to my right and notice the picture from long ago when I was truly happy by my own accord- a beautiful wife by my side and a new born baby cradled in her arms. I wanted to smile but all those joyful memories were just squashed. The playful image of my daughter laughing that should have filled my soul with relief was brought to a screeching halt. Now all I can see is the lifeless body amidst a car crash-

I made the decision to put on the patch as the memories flashed vividly in my minds eye, driving me into a panic that only ceased it’s impending barrage of pain once the plaster was firmly gripped to my forearm. I felt calm. Just as I hoped, I could think beyond the negatives- beyond pain and suffering. I remembered that change wasn’t bad, no longer caring for the hatred I had towards the world. My daughter- I forget why I never thought of it before, I could see her again. A version of her at least- that virtual reality world could give me anything I ever wanted. I began to see the bright sides of a corporate entity claiming my soul to regain my family, my life. For once in my life I was happy. Somewhere deep down though, I knew this was just a short fix. I hadn’t solved anything, all I had done was taken a short cut to fulfilment.

All that I could feel was numbness. Even a prick of my finger didn’t make me flinch. I needed to buy one of the emotions.

He is in town today and as I head out the door the coins jingle in my pocket. Each different coin hits one another. God I hope I have enough money for one, I think to myself as I shut the door behind me.

He normally sets his tent up in the middle of the courtyard for everybody to see but today was different. He wasn’t there. He is always there on every first Tuesday of the month. Never in a different area. Always that one spot. Why is he not there? I need that drug or I don’t know what I’m going to do.

My head starts to feel heavy and my sight is blurry. God it’s happening again, I think to myself. I start to hyperventilate. My chest feels like it’s going to explode. I need to sit down, I think.

I try to walk over to a bench as I bump into people in the crowd. My brain is too foggy to even say that I’m sorry. Once I reach the bench I sit down and put my heads on my hands. I breathe in and out slowly trying to calm myself down. This is the only other emotion I feel that’s not numbness. I hate it.

After a few moments I am able to calm myself down. Someone pokes my shoulder and I look at them. “You look like you need a pill.” They say as they hand me a yellow pill.

“No thank you.” I say as I try to hand it back to them but they don’t take it.

“It’s a happiness pill. Are you sure you don’t want it?” They tell me. I gasp. A happiness pill is in my possession. These things are worth hundreds of dollars.

“I need, I need to pay you for this but I don’t have enough. Let me do something for you.” I tell him as I ramble on.

“It’s on the house.” They tell me with a smile as they poof away. On the house? Wait, was that the guy who sells the pills? I think. I immediately take the pill and everything becomes foggier then earlier.

Within a second all my worries disappear. Everything seems brighter, more happy. Am I happy? Is this what it feels like? I think to myself. A real genuine smile pops up on my face. “I’m happy.” I scream. Finally.

“I can’t believe your really going to do this Ana,” Luna said to her sister. “We said we wouldn’t do this after what happened to you and mom. It might seem like an easy fix but is it really worth it?” Again said Luna, the younger naive but still so sweet sister of Ana. Ana always admired her younger sisters sweet nature and positive view of the world, even so, Ana knew a different world. “Luna I’m not doing anything that wasn’t done to me first, it’s not like I’m buying them from some back door dark website like they did to me.” Ana calmly explained to Luna, who was obviously distraught at what her sister was going to do. “It’s not okay and I know but after this whole buying emotions buisness took off, no one expected the dark web to get in on it or for scammers to find ways to buy just anyones emotions even the ones that were not for sale.” “If this happened to you Luna I would support you, and remember I’m not buying just anybody’s…I’m buying mine back. I thought it was gone forever but those low life’s had the nerve to buy mine illegally and then come and sell my own shit back to me, try to understand ok.”

Ever since technology and the a-list people found a way to extract an emotion from another human and put that emotion into another body, the world has become a huge pick-n-pull of emotions. Depression is at an all time low but suicide is the highest it’s ever been. There was more integrity to the process when it first became public that is was even possible, the same way we check one box at the dmv requesting to be organ donors was the same way you could be an emotion donor. Only, as with black market organ dealing being one of the most profitable buisness’, black market emotion dealing took off, and buisness is booming. With people being able to pick and choose what they want and not having to wait for donors, instead a way to take emotions from living,healthy people was discovered.

Ana was one of the unlucky people to have the spark stolen from her life via her emotions. The worst part was that Ana was not like everyone else who suffered the same experience. Ana had always been gifted, from a small child to adulthood she exhibited her clairvoyant abilities a number of times, she was especially gifted in the area of feelings. She first noticed something was off when she would experience sensations and feelings throughout her body both internal and external that she couldn’t explain. She went to her aunt, who was hard to convince of anything even though she also shared the gift, for advice. “So you feel all these things Ana? And why can’t you just ignore it if you know it isn’t happening to you?” Ana’s aunt asks her as she sits down next to her niece. “Yes I feel them, this is the only time I ever resented my gift aunty, it’s not fair. It’s like being punished for something you didn’t do, I don’t have to be there doing these things but yet I still have to feel all the sensations and now I’ve been seeing faces in my sleep.” Ana’s aunt looks up at her with concern. “What kind of faces Ana?” She asks. “The faces of many men aunty. But not just regular men,” Ana’s body language showing her discomfort with the topic. “I think that whoever took my emotions, sold them to a prostitute, and before you call me crazy and tell me to leave it alone or like Luna said, that I shouldn’t buy it back, hear me out.”

Ana breathes in deeply as she begins to explain why it’s so important to get it back and why she cannot simply take it as a loss like so many do when this happens to them. “If I’m right that means that I’ll have to suffer this connection to whoever this woman is for the rest of my life. Tia, it’s been a few years now and it’s only gotten worse. You know I don’t even miss my mom anymore, or grandma and grandpa… I used to be so full of love and excitement and a drive to do the things I loved, all of which are gone now.” Her aunt, now with tears in her eyes, gives Ana a reassuring hug as she asks her one more question. “ If you weren’t clairvoyant do you think this would effect you as deeply as it is now?” Ana replies quickly to the question. “No! That’s why i can’t, I have to buy it back! If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll end up doing what my mom did and everybody else who lost theirs. I only have two options. Find her and Buy it back or prepare for my own death.”

In this new world of emotion buying, sad to say, but the topic of death was no longer a sensitive subject. Preparing for one’s own death became a lot like when terminally ill cancer patients prepare for the inevitable. They say their good byes and try to live out there last months or in some cases years, the best they can.

“I’m afraid Tia, I really am but an injustice has happened to me, one that threatens my life. I don’t even want to close my eyes to sleep because i can’t sleep without seeing all those faces. And worse, you know my boyfriend?” She asks her aunt. “The one I don’t like? Yes Mija how could I forget that boy.” “Well he broke up with me, I told him I was seeing faces of different men when we would….you know….and he didn’t believe me.” “This is how it happens to everyone, except I know why suddenly I’m losing all these things, others did not know but I do Tia.” Ana explains with excitement to her aunt.

“Well I will support you since I see there is no need to talk you out of it, I could not live that way either. Can I say something mija? Then It will be the last question I ask.” Ana braces herself for what she knew was coming. “Hmmmm yes aunt, I’m listening.”

“So now you see why I never liked that boyfriend of your’s?” She says to Ana with a serious tone. “Really…out of all that your thinking about that Tia?” Ana replies as she lets out a laugh, much needed to lighten the mood, displaying once again her resilience in any situation, and her ability to still smile even through something as serious as this. “Well I’m just saying Ana. They messed up when they picked you to do this to mija.” “Go get them.”

Ana was only 28, no more that 150lbs and stood about 5’ft 3 inches tall. She knew buying back her emotions would be no easy thing to do, black market dealers are the most dangerous and ruthless type of people. What she had though, her clairvoyance, would give her an advantage in navigating her way to the source. She would always be 5 steps ahead of them.

⚠️ TW: Suicide ⚠️

• • • • •

Numb. That was all I could feel. That was all anyone could feel. Unless. Unless you bought from the seller. He traveled from town to town selling and making profit.

He was in town today.

The pieces jingle in my pocket as I made my way through the crowd. People love the seller. His long white beard and tall hat stuck out in the crowd. He stood on a wood block shouting to all those in hearing distance.

“Come one, come all,” he pauses as they look upon him, “pick and choose what you need to feel today, no more numbness, no more suffering—” He’s drowned out by others cheering and screaming. I put my head down and moved through the rest of the crowd. The shop. Must get to the shop. Before— no don’t think about that.

More people moved into me, pushing and pulling me around. Move. Move I say! I pushes right back at them and stumbled into the shop. Finally. The jingle of bottle is all I am hear as I read through the haze of people. Anger, no Jealously, no Happiness, no Where is it where is it?! I need to find it, my life depended on it, or death. Which ever way you want to see it as.

And finally I see it.

In.

Another.

Persons.

Hand.

No no no, that can’t happen. Pushing Shoving

Give it here! I’ve got it!

The man reaches and grabs, but it’s too late. The clear blue liquid is down my throat. I let my hand fall as I wallow in the emotion. I look down to read what the vile had said.

Sadness, yes.

Men scream and viles fly.

“That man! Right there!”

Running is all I can recall now. Out out out and away. And then

And then off the edge.

Black swallows me whole as the ground rushes up to meet my head.

Love for sale Or do we sell That passionate emotion For pennies on the ocean

We speak of love lost Or love at all cost Never to have loved Maybe protects from above

But what is love Other than lust in the mud To be shed when done Lost when no longer fun

I think I’ll save my money Rather spend it on tea and honey At least these things are real Bad love never heals Tessa🦋

Click clack click clack Christian Louboutin red-bottom heels clicked on the floor with attitude as Christy pretended that the entrance to her local Walmart was a red carpet event. She always made it a point to dress her best anywhere she went, in case she saw someone who spit on her. Her looking good was how she spit on them.

      A tall, dark man with a backwoods hoodie looked her up and down as she searched the store isle for what she was looking for. He might have been handsome, she hadn’t noticed; she was done with men. Her hands found the duck tape before her eyes, as her mind was preoccupied. 

      Flashes of a memory bombarded her troubled mind. Walking into her home she shared with her husband, surprising him by coming home early with a pizza and bottle of wine.  Noticing her 4 month old daughter Libby, abandoned in front of the TV, watching Elmo. Coming to the steps, seeing the faux fur floor mat at the bottom of it stained with spilled wine. The corner of her eyes catching a red lacy bra that clearly wasn’t hers (drastically larger than her modest 34 b bra size) hanging from the top of the railing.  A matching thong sat lonely on the top step. The look on her husbands face as she walked in on him pile driving a woman half his age. The memory stuck in her head replaying like a broken record, and she wanted nothing more than to feel something about it. So she was going to buy it, Rage.

Some of her friends had recommended to her local feeling dealers, but she decided to buy legit.

      Feeling maps was a local delivery service that brought the product right to your door. It sounded simple enough, but she wanted another excuse to get dressed up and look like a bad bitch making men who could never have her drool, so she decided to go to an emotions dispensary herself. After an outfit change and touching up her makeup, she decided some company would do her good. It only took one FaceTime call and about five minutes before her best friend Audrey was at her door. 

      “Hey bitch, what’s up! Let’s go get you some of that good shit and go key that bastards car or something, it’ll be great!” She pulled Christy in for a hug, sniffing her shiny, black hair. 

       You smell good, what is that, Dulce And Gabanna? We gotta get you some rebound dick and your ass looks great in that skirt! She exclaimed, grinning with merit. 

Christy chuckled and hugged her back, hoping that her eccentric companion would keep her mind off of her husbands epic betrayal.

      The five minute drive flew by, they sauntered into Mentalroma, a local emotions dispensary. She showed the the burly man in a security uniform her ID and medical recommendation, and stepped by the large threatening looking coke-white pitbull he had on a leash next to him. The beast growled at her menacingly and she shuddered, hoping he couldn’t smell her fear. Following the hallway around to a back room, she was surprised to see how many people were casually shopping for drugs. She remembered a time where if anyone wanted to buy emotions they had to do it on the street, and that had dangers due to people making it incorrectly or getting the percentage wrong, which could wreck havoc on one’s psyche.

      “So what emotion are you looking for today, and how would you like to receive it?” The red headed lady with large breasts spilling out of her top inquired. Christy blinded twice and gave a blank stare. 

      “Chrissy, she means how do you want to take your Rage. Do you want a joint, an edible cookie, a disposable feeling cartridge. Which one do you want to try first?” She said it as though she knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing for Christy. Audrey got high regularly, on almost every emotion, but never jealousy. She had forewarned her to not ever try that one, especially with her husbands recent adultery involving a younger woman.

      “Okay, so to start you off let’s go with a two gram joint. 20% mental capacity manipulation, if we need to adjust any doses we can do so. If at any time you experience any adverse side effects, discontinue use immediately. Keep out of reach of any children or pets at all times. Please just sign this waiver,” the busty woman handed her a clipboard and pen with a brain as the clicker. 

      “And that’ll be twenty dollars and forty eight cents. Since you’re a first time buyer, you get a free peanut butter rage cookie and a sticker. Enjoy!” 

She inserted her pink debit card into the reader and in no time was out the door with her drugs in a brown paper bag.

      Christy zoomed down the highway going 100, her best friend screaming the lyrics to Ambitions As A Rida by Tupac. Audrey was the most free spirit Christy had ever encountered. It was uplifting, almost gave her a feeling of ecstasy. Not quite though, you had to buy that in this dimension; nothing was free, especially not cheap thrills. She swerved through lanes in her old blue Bentley, an emotion close to adrenaline pumping in her veins. She probably just had to pee, you couldn’t get that free either. 

      “I won’t deny it, I’m a straight rida, you don’t wanna fuck with me. Got the police bustin at me, but they can’t do nothin to a g,” Audrey sang with heart. Christy smiled modestly and yelled “you’re ridiculous!” But Audrey couldn’t hear over her terrible rapping and the bass slapping aggressively. 

       She reached her apartment in two minutes with her lead food (it was a five minute drive), and grabbed her brown bag along with the plastic Walmart one with duck tape and some ropes inside. 

      “Okay Audrey, let’s get fucking livid. I think I wanna try this cookie. Split it with me?” Christy bat her lashes at her friend, knowing she would be down for anything.

      “Down bitch, give it here!” Audrey beamed, holding her hand out for the cookie and bounced up and down like a child. She split the cookie in half when Christy placed it in her hand, immediately biting into it.

      “Mmmm! This shit is good. I wonder what they put in it to make it taste like that.” 

      “Drugs, Audrey. They put drugs in it.” Christy replied dryly. She ate her cookie slowly, with self control (Audrey demolished hers, and licked the crumbs off her fingers).

      Within an hour or so, neither of the exuberant friends could feel the drugs. So they decided to take more. Audrey picked up a joint and a lighter, and put the joint in her mouth, covering it with one hand and lighting with another. She inhaled sharply, holding it in for a few seconds and coughing it out, holding her chest. The joint was then passed to Christy and she copied her partner in crimes actions. After the joint was out, Christy picked up the packaging for the edible cookie. On the back it said “may take up to two hours for the effects to begin.” 

      “Hey Audrey!” Christy called from to her from the bathroom nervously.

“We fucked up!” When Audrey realized what they had done she laughed hysterically. Within thirty minutes they were both feeling way more than rage. They were outraged, livid, and beyond pissed the fuck off.

       “How fucking DARE he! That lying cheat, I’m gonna kill him and I’m gonna take all his fucking money!” Christy screamed, with tears of anger splashing onto her sharply contoured cheek bones. 

       “Hey girl… calm the fuck down. I thought we were just going to slash some tires and make him call himself a cheating pig on Facebook live. Actually, you know what… fuck him. Let’s fucking get this dirty bastard!” Audrey smiled mischievously, though her eyes showed her true emotions; rage, and lots of it.

      The adventurous two zoomed off in the car playing music about murder and drugs to their victims work place. It seemed fitting, as they had duck tape, some rope, and a Glock 9 in the trunk. They flew past a cop that couldn’t be bothered any less by their speeding; the police system was extremely corrupt in this dimension, and they only arrested those who went up against the monarchy. In no time they reached eighth street, and saw her husbands tiny chiropractor office on the corner next to a seven eleven. He was a shark, charging top dollar for mediocre service to old people in pain who didn’t know any better. She should have known he was a scum bag from the start. 

        Christy and Audrey hopped out of the car looking like they stepped out of an action movie scene. They both had their hair in braids, and wore Halloween masks to hide their faces from the businesses security cameras. Audrey wore a Jason mask and Christy wore a Chucky’s Bride mask, naturally. They had on all black, tight, leather jumpsuits and black Air Force ones. The trunk popped open, revealing an abnormally large briefcase and a binder stuffed with documents. The resentful pair bombarded into the establishment, and saw her husband bent over in a corner. Christy threw the briefcase on a desk along with the documents and shouted,

      “Hey, you fucking pig, guess who’s here!” Her husband jumped up, clearly startled and faced them. 

      “Oh no Christy, why did you bring this crazy bitch,” he groaned, recognizing her best friends dirty blonde hair. 

      “Because sweetie,” she cooed back at him.

“We’re about to fucking end you and take all your money, then we’re going to Cancun to get married and raise our daughter, that’s why. You stupid prick.”

      “Please, just let me go and I swear I’ll give you all the money you want!” The man pleaded with them, tied to a plastic yard chair. Audrey huffed in anger and pulled duck tape out of the briefcase. 

      “Oh, shut this asshole up baby cakes! I can’t stand his obnoxious whining,” Christy yelled, as her words echoed through the building. Audrey quickly followed her best friend, and new lovers request and duck taped their victims mouth shut. 

      “Okay, so here’s what’s gonna happen hubby,” Christy started. 

      “You’re going to sign these papers that declare everything you own will go to me and our daughter when you die, and none of it will be going to your family. Those bitches never approved of me anyway. If you don’t do it I’ll set your fucking hair on fire along with your pubes. Sound good?” 

      His eyes widened and he mumbled inaudible through the duck tape. Christy untied one of his hands and handed him a paper and clipboard. He signed instantly, probably terrified of losing his precious receding hair; since he was going to buy plugs with his next paycheck. Audrey smiled fakely. 

      “Perfect! Now you’re going to write a suicide note, thirteen reasons type of deal. Can you handle that cunt? Or do I have to set fire to more than just your hair. I’ll pop a cap in your cheating ass!” She yelled threateningly, grabbing a Glock nine from the briefcase and pointing it to his skull. He soon wrote that up as well, claiming to be taking his own life out of guilt for his adultery to his loving wife. 

      Christy ripped the duck tape off of her husbands lying mouth, pulling some hair off of his upper lip and he squealed in pain. What a little bitch, she thought to herself. Audrey untied his ropes and stuffed them in the briefcase. She handed the gun to her soon to be wife, and went to turn the sign on the door to “closed” instead of “be back in five!” She returned to see the pathetic man on his knees, looking Christy making him deep throat the barrel of her gun. He was lucky she didn’t make the dirty bastard sit on it, I would have, Audrey thought. 

      “Okay, let’s get this shit show on the road, we don’t want to miss date night. I got us a babysitter and everything!” Audrey yelled. Christy stared daggers into her husbands skull with so much Rage, you could feel it bubbling up and swirling around the room. 

      “Any last words, cheating prick!” She screamed at him. 

      “Her pussy tasted like fucking raspberries, you cunt.” He spat on her face. She roared, seething with Rage more than ever before. She wanted to shoot him in the dick, but that would blow the whole suicide thing. She shoved the Glock in his dirty mouth like a cock in the porn he watched frequently and shot through his skull. His brains splattered out onto the clock behind him.

I saw a warm smile, but I couldn’t give one back. I see contagious laughter, but I guess I never caught it. The warm fuzzy feeling that people experienced, well at least other people experienced. I never felt happy. Sadness swallowed me like a sable eating a rat. One fast strike, and just like that I’m done, I didn’t even get a chance to fight back. I never could have imagined that I could be happy, until Logan told me a place where I could but it. I headed to the store as fast as I could. I hoped that this happiness was worth it, it costed like $30, the worst part was it only lasted for one day. I swallowed the happiness, as soon as I did my entire life changed, I felt it, it worked. I enjoyed seeing people. When I entered a room I actually smiled. My friend told a joke and for the first time ever I laughed, I didn’t even know I could laugh. I loved this feeling it was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I never felt the feeling of happiness before, most people don’t believe me when I tell them that, but the true is when I was just a baby my happiness was stolen. Someone broke in our house that night, the extracted and stole my happiness, and a few other things, but my happiness was the main thing that I was mad about. Why would anyone steal the happiness from innocent children, that was something I thought about a lot, but today was different. This new feeling was better than anything I have ever felt before, but I know it won’t last long, I’m trying to hold onto it for as long as I can. This won’t last forever, so I’ll make the most of it for as long as possible. I had some fun, I hung out with my friends, listened to some good jokes, and just had a happy day. The bad thing was I felt it falling away. I wasn’t laughing as hard, I was smiling less, and the warm fuzzy feeling wasn’t as warm or fuzzy anymore. It slowly slipped away until I had no happiness left. I was left in disappointment, pain, and regret. I was I never would have experienced happiness, because when it was gone I felt even worse than I did without it. I lost the only good thing I had. The pain of loosing it outweighed the joy of having it. I will forever be depressed, longing for the day I die, then I won’t be a prisoner to the sadness, and pain anymore.

Joy is greater than happiness. It is happiness on overload. Joy is an emotion inexpressible without God in your life.
Joy exudes from your very existence. Joy is brought through the Lord’s love for you Joy is also from love from family and friends Joy is a puppy cuddling on your lap Joy is a cat purring from within Joy is exhilarating emotion when you win the big game or meet a goal or score great on a big test.

Every morning I am given these tiny round pills. They help me regulate my emotions. They are the first pill on the market to help with emotional regulation. Now I can manage my moods and stress levels better. Blue is for sad, yellow is for happy, red is for furious, and so on. The pills are carefully balanced and I can only have one of each emotion a day.

Ariel heard it be considered “a disease” countless times. That notion was always humorous for her. When she took it, she felt anything but sick; she felt invincible. That is, until, she had to be without it. That’s when the disease overcame her.

Ariel knew of other emotions that were abused. Lust, for the ones that craved to feel desired and to satisfy their deepest sexual needs. Hope, for the ones that needed a reason to keep going on. Even Rage, for people to get angry enough to do things they would’ve never done without that adrenaline. Her personal choice, however, was Euphoria.

The feeling was indescribable. It was like the happiest days of your life all combined and compacted into a little vial. When Ariel swallowed the liquid, she felt like there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do. The first time she put the bitter substance to her lips, she decided that’s how she was always going to feel. There was no way for her to know that she couldn’t possibly sustain it.

Euphoria had become increasingly harder to find due to the supply being unable to keep up with the demand. Ariel secretly thought that her use alone must have been a large problem of the decreasing availability. Euphoria was one of the few emotions that was determined to have no pharmaceutical uses, which made it even more difficult to come across.

When Ariel first experienced the withdrawals, she thought she was dying. It was as if though her body was rejecting itself. Cold sweats, vomiting, debilitating anxiety that was always accompanied with the shakes. She had messaged her dealer (known only as “The Candyman” to his clients) asking if he gave her a bad batch. She could almost see him laughing at her through the phone informing her that it was the withdrawals. Ariel showed up to his house not fifteen minutes later.

She found herself in the same situation again. Only this time, she didn’t have her cure. The Candyman told her that he was all out, much to Ariel’s dismay. Ariel went to the only other person that she knew who might know where she could pick some up. Conrad, the first person to introduce her to Euphoria and The Candyman.

That was 7 months ago. She did her best to stay high ever since. To achieve her goal, she started dialing Conrad’s number. Each ring that he didn’t answer, she felt her heart sink lower and lower. Finally, relief, when she heard him answer:

“Hello.”

“Hey, it’s Ariel,” she started

“What’s up?”

“I’m not doing well. I need more, but Candyman’s out.”

There was silence on the other line.

“You still there?” Ariel asked.

“I’m not helping with that,” He finally answered.

“What do you mean?” Ariel asked, feeling her blood starting to boil.

“I think you have a problem.”

“No, I don’t.”

“How many times have you been without in the past 6 months?”

“Why does that matter? Besides you were the one who introduced me!” Ariel replied defensively.

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m hoping these feelings you’re feeling will make you stay away from it. Good luck, Ariel, you’re going to need it.” Then Conrad hung up.

Ariel was seething, but she wasn’t sure if it’s because he denied her or because he was right. Each day her dosage increased, to the point where she was up to four vials a day. Her stopping point had disintegrated before she even realized it. Ariel dropped to her knees and cried. She cried until she couldn’t produce anymore tears, and then she just choked out dry heaves.

The next week was hell, pure hell. There was virtually nothing Ariel could try to improve the way she felt. All she could do was lay in bed, but she wasn’t even allowed the comfort of sleep. There were times where she didn’t think she was going to make it. She did.

After the first week, her physical health improved. Her mood started improving after the third week. This surprised her, as she had accepted the fact that she would never feel joy without Euphoria. After the first month, she was able to go back to almost normal functioning. Ariel was able to start taking care of herself again; taking showers, brushing her teeth, being able to leave the house for reasons other than work. She even went a whole 10 minutes without thinking about Euphoria. Her optimism about the situation was improving. Then she got a text:

“I got some in stock. You still looking for that?”

She stared at the message for a long time before replying:

“When can i come over?”