It Never Goes Away



Scene Title It Never Goes Away
Synopsis Exiting from a Refrain addicts meeting, wendy contemplates her addiction, the need to find a different group and goes off to fill a different addiction.
Date January 18, 2010

Suresh Center

It never goes away.

She has no one else to blame for it either.

Exiting from the building that held the refrain meeting, the darkness settled in around the Suresh Center staved off only by streelights makes for an appropriate mood accompaniment. To accompany the itch that's settled in her veins. Without fail she's showed up to every single meeting she could, sat in the middle with her hands in her lap and concentrating on the words, testimony's and admissions of those like her who had touched the blue fairy. She wanted a vial, she wanted a vial right now.

Each time she counts how many people show up, each time at some point she bumps into them, or shakes a hand, recounts the way it makes her feel. Made her feel. One person could turn intangible, one re-generator, a handful of others, but for the most part it was people that she had already met before.

She was going to have to stop coming. The problem with attending an evolved help group for a drug that only evolveds get hooked to is that at some point, there's too many other evolveds in the room. She found herself drifting a few times but not enough to need to flee. Not this time. After that, she might need to seek out some other group. Wendy lingers near the door, looking out onto the snowy lawn of the center with a slow exhale. Each time they talked about it in there, she wanted it. How many weeks without it? The worst of it was long over but still. She'd told someone long ago, that it never goes away. It's not like the other things she's been hooked on. Logan's trick had taken away 90 percent of the craving. This time around she was doing it the hard way and it was tough. So tough.

Her fingers drift to the gold chain around her wrist, the one she'd found herself drawn to when she'd found herself outside a jewelry store. Three loops of gold, loose around her wrist that looked just like the one from her dream. Or nightmare. Depended on how you looked at it. Her purse was next, dig out a cigarette and a lighter.

"Skipping out? Thought for sure you'd stick around" Wendy turns as the voice that accompanied the sensation that came from behind her. "Since you'd been around for more than a few meetings. Got a spare?" There's a gesture from the tall sandy haired man who shared officiate duties with another at the meetings.

"Sure" She holds the pack out, offering one to him. "I uh, there's too many folks there. I can't handle too many people in a room like that. Think I'm gonna go find another narc group and sit in on it" She flicks her lighter, flame coming to life and she holds it out, cupped against the breeze for protection to light up his. Owen, she remembers his name.

"Agoraphobic?" He inquires, puffing a few times to keep the smoke from dying out, smoke curling up into the air.

"No. No. My ability. Too many people of an evolved nature tends to send me running for doors before I end up like a fish out of water on the floor" "Oh" He replies, blowing out more smoke, a look of surprise on his face.

"Yeah. Sorta inconvenient at times. But hey, you know" Wendy shrugs her shoulders. "Some of us can't just control flame or water. About the only time I curse my ability. I've been down this road before, there's more than enough groups around that I can go to, this ones been good, it'll do good for others." She blows out her own curlicue of smoke, away from Owen and bobbing her head. "You should uh, go back in. I need to go get my car and head off, busy day tomorrow don't you know" It'll be Tuesday, the bookstore will be open and there will probably be a grand total of 12 people in the store.

"You keep up the good fight Wendy" He offers, not moving from his spot. 'Thanks for the smoke"

"Anytime Owen" She offers a goofy grin before she heads off, tall boots thumping on the salted pavement towards the main path from the center to the street. She tosses the mostly smoked cigarette under her foot, snuffing out the embers and huddles her hands in her pocket. Where could she score some Refrain. The thought idly crosses her mind before she she banishes it to the dark corners. The dark corner isn't very far in, not so deep a corner. There's a decision made to sublimate the itch with something else. Something else not so legal and maybe a trip to a little club filled with strippers and dancers owned by a guys he fancies.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License