Utterly Mad

Eli wasn't feeling all that much at the time. He hadn't been feeling all that much for quite a while. Smoke, sip, swallow and shoot were the only words that really had any meaning for him at the time being. The Big S's. The Four S's. Something like that. Anyways, he didn't really move all that much for a few more minutes. Nobody in the room did. Some might've been dead, but that didn't bother the Doc all that much. He'd been around dead people a lot. No sense in being afraid of death.

After a bit of time inside his own head, Eli rose. It was a fast, spastic, seizure-like motion. Like he was learning to walk. One step, two, adjusting to rubber legs, stumbling, retching, feeling the shit clogging his veins and the chemicals fuming in the space between his skull and his brain. Not enough, in his humble opinion. Never enough. After clearing his throat and stretching out a little, Eli stumbled as best he could to the fancy door in the room of half-dead junkies and broken bongs. That is, after pilfering some of the pills and powder on the table. He already had a stash for the road, but those never lasted as long as he liked.

The door opened with a creak like no other. The bar wasn't the nicest place, but it definitely wasn't the worst he'd ever stayed in. There was something wrong with Eli's head. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he didn't like it. Codeine would fix that. Codeine and some Knob Creek, he thought to himself, making a few shaky steps towards the door of the bar. He had to get out of this shithole sometime soon.