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He screamed inside his own head again, hoping to jar himself awake. He focused what he percieved to be all of his will on moving muscles in his body with no result. Being trapped inside this delusion would not be such a bad thing by itself. What made it so un-settling was a sense of foreboding, of being drawn into a void. This touched parts of his psyche and caused him to feel a type of fear most never do. Being helpless behind a wall of semi-consciousness became it's own prison. His life became a scary place prior to his current state and it was slowly deteriorating. He had managed to reduce his feelings to a muffled voice with life poisoning activities, and at a heavy price. Now he was facing fear and the unknown in a gripping dream, not certain why he had chosen this. One small voice in his head told him it was the right thing to do, like a small flame fluttering in an ill wind. Every time he had closed his eyes within the last few days he had felt uneasy. So far he had only slept in short, shallow spurts while his system struggled to make sense of the sudden imbalance that shook him to his bones. For so long he had paralyzed his body and mind, and now they failed him. His mind held him prisoner while his body took the opportunity to make him aware of it's suffering; It was squeezing toxins from it's most vital tissues, in a slow and painfull process. He could never have imagined feeling so uncomfortable in his own skin - He knew (knowing) now that he would never forget it, if he survived. Pain passed through his entire body once again, so intense that it left a nauseating ripple through his head. (With) His guts shuddered (shuddering) and his vision blurred(,) and he wished he could make it go away. The same thing that got him here could do that temporarily, but it would eventually cost him his life. He remained in this limbo for days, slowly moving toward what he hoped was freedom. After a long and particularly deep sleep he woke in what the clock told him was afternoon. Three-thirty to be exact. His body felt (feeling) achy and worn, covered in layers of sweat from days of sickness, he showered and immediatley found his way to the bed again before falling down. He realized that the worst was over, and that his greatest test still lay ahead of him. Staying clean was the hard part. He hoped that he could be stronger this time, so that he would never have to go through this again. Losing everything had once again scared him into giving up drugs. He knew to avoid the people and places that had anything to do with the poison that would always call to him. He knew that seeing someone stick a needle in their arm in a movie would make him tremble and look away for a while. He knew right from wrong but that had never saved him before. He hoped for the best and closed his eyes.
