crossfader band

The teenage boy sat shaking, his breathing uneven, his heart racing. His hands trembled as he reached for his pockets, eventually locating the item he was searching for so desperately. His life source, his drug, his addiction. He popped off the cap, and emptied the 7 mismatched pills into the palm of his sweaty hand. His vision was blurred and his mind was a jumble, all he knew was that one of these pills would save him.

He took the first pill, and a million swords stabbed into his body in every pore and every inch. The pain was unimaginable, and he released a wordless scream as he bent over, his nostrils flared and his teeth digging into his lips, drawing blood. Wrong pill.

He quickly swallowed the second pill, and just as quickly as it had hit him, the pain subsided. Instead, he felt completely numb. His limbs were frozen over, his body was weightless. He was but a feather, blown whichever way the wind decided. He felt himself smile, and at that instant he knew that it wasnapos;t over yet. The doom was still there.

He took the third pill, and the calmness vanished. Instead there was just panic. Blind panic in the most horrible way. What pill did he take? Was it the red one? Most likely. His eyes looked at the other pills, sweat dribbling down his face. Which one would save him? The yellow one? The capsule? The one that had been half destroyed? He gripped his shaggy hair as he stared holes into the pills, so unsure and undecided.

So he closed his eyes and swallowed another. He opened his eyes, and the world was funny looking. Purple snakes flew through the air, while polka dot trees serenaded the spiders, who in turn weaved moving webs on to their leaves. He laughed as the air tickled his eyelashes, sending shivers down his spine. He looked up, and the clouds loomed over him. But they werenapos;t evil, just watching. Protecting him, perhaps.

He took the fifth pill and his pupils widened. He focused so intensely on the two remaining pills, it was like he could see every detail and every etch. He was afraid to look away in case something more interesting captured his gaze. One of these pills would save him. One of these pills would end this immortal suffering he was facing.

He took the second last pill. Nothing. If anything he just felt more active. It mustapos;ve been a sugar pill.

A nervous grin went on his face. He held the last pill between his fingers, eying it hungrily. Finally, finally his angel had approached. Just as he was about to receive the blessing of blessings, he heard shouts. Someone rammed into him, knocking the pill from his hand.

The boy was pulled away, his screams of protest falling on deaf ears as he was dragged away to the institute, the cyanide pill falling to the ground with a dull thud.
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