It’s midnight and she is up late struggling with the hurt and pain of giving up again. She hopes that this time will be the last, to have the courage. She is looking around for something to cover herself with and sees the filth and darkness surrounding her, notices the sense of lonely that is jaggedly cut into the night. She feels the cold pierce every exposed pore of her skin and pulls herself into a tight ball. The darkness closes in and she closes her eyes to sleep.
Another few minutes pass by and the addiction is ravaging at here barely fattened body, burning at her insides, and gnawing at her muscles. She sits up, tense, and starts to rock back and forth, feeling the bitter cold saturate her to the bones. Picking up the bag that was beside her, she begins to run through the alley. She sees her old dealer in his normal alley and begs him for an “I Owe You.” She is yanking and pulling at him. Finally, he shoves her off and gives a single needle with an ounce of liquid to her. She runs off, searching for an empty street.
She collapses in a dark corner behind a dumpsite. As she lies there, she is searching through her mind for a reason not to do this, a reason not to let the fiery, piercing liquid rush through here blood stream. She wants a reason not to warm her body from the winter’s bitter cold night.
She cries out faintly as she drops the needle. She doesn’t know what, but some force forces it from her hand and she finds strength to pull herself up. She feels something pushing here into the lamplight at the end at the street. She finds a man standing there dressed in white. He knows her name and what she had just planned to do. She finds herself following him absent-mindedly, wondering where he is going.
They approach a wooden door in the side of an apartment building on which he knocks. She looks down to realize that here frayed shoe lace is untied. She stands back up as the door opens. The man she had followed is gone. In the doorway stands a woman, a woman who, like her, has sunken cheekbones. She is different though. She has a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her lips.
“I did not knock. I was following a Man.”
“In know,” says the woman, “I saw Him, but come in anyway.”
She follows the woman and is immediately overwhelmed by the warmth and calm of this place. The woman leads her into a kitchen and there is bread. The woman offers her some. She greedily snatches it and is nibbling it into crumbs.
“Thank you, “ she says
“You are very welcome. You are welcome to stay the night and sleep in any empty bed you can find. You may leave as you wish. Goodnight.” The woman said.
“Thank you, Thank You, Thank You!” She exclaimed. From that moment she walked up the stairs and slept. She let the room be lit by a lamp in the corner and she slept. She slept like she had never slept before, with a peace and comfort within herself. She knew the truth. She knew how to escape the grip of heroine. She found her Savior in the light that came from the darkness.