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?”