From the Edge
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**Warning: Use of strong language**
Peter woke in extreme pain, pain that did not seem to quit.
"Please, give me something. You've got to give me something."
"I'm sorry, Peter. I don't have anything to give you."
"Please!"
"No," Annie stated simply.
"You never really cared about me," Peter said with scorn. "You just felt sorry for me. If you did you'd give me something for the pain."
Peter's words cut Annie to the heart. She had been warned by the old Chinese that this would happen, but she had not fully prepared herself for the impact her son's words would have on her. She knew it was the morphine that was causing Peter to lash out, but it still hurt to hear him say the things he was saying.
"The pain will pass," Annie said and quickly left the room.
"No!" Peter screamed in anger. "Don't leave me! Why does everyone leave me? Untie me! Let me go! Why do I have to be tied up? Why! Tell me!"
At the insistence of the old Chinese and Paul's, Peter was restrained for his own safety. Though Annie did not like the idea of tying her son to a bed, hearing what he was going through forced Annie into realizing that it was necessary. Right now, Annie tried to ignore his raving. It was so difficult to hear the anguish in her son's voice, the pleading for medication that would only bring him false relief or death. Tears welled up in her eyes as Peter continued to either plead like a little boy one minute than swear and rage the next.
"Pleeeaaase!" Peter whined then suddenly exploded. "Bitch! Give it to me! I need it! I want it! Give it to me, you blind bitch! I hate you!" Then Peter broke down into tears of deep despair and shame. "No, I don't mean it. I'm sorry. Please, help me."
The raging, whining, and crying went on for two solid hours. Annie tried to separate herself from the situation, trying to see her son as only a man who needed assistance, but her heart would not allow it. Every raging cry, every deep sob tore at her. Her mind understood the reasons why Peter could not be given the morphine, but her heart screamed at her reasons why he should have it. 'He's suffering, I've got to help him,' her heart said. Her head responded, 'Do you want him to die? That's what will happen if he has any more.'
"Oh, please get back here with that remedy," Annie said aloud.
It took Annie five minutes to realize that everything had gone quiet. She listened for Peter, but she heard nothing. Concerned, she went into the room that the old Chinese provided for Peter to sleep in. She listened and heard the sound of his labored breathing. Though it sounded rough, it was even as if in sleep. She came a little closer and was nearly startled when she heard the bed creaking from the sudden movement of her son as he tried to grab her by her wrists. She jumped back nearly to the door. She had no reason to fear Peter, but the man that lunged at her was not her son at that moment. He was a raging madman, a drug addict bent on trying to get free to acquire that one fix that would bring him peace.
"No, come back! I promise, I won't hurt you. Please, Mom, I'm sorry."
Annie, though, would not allow herself to be fooled a second time, if that was Peter's game. Instead she made a hasty retreat to the front of the house where they were staying and prayed that Paul and the ancient Chinese would be returning soon.
End of Part 11
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2001.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
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