From the Edge
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"Annie?" Paul called out as he entered the house. He looked around and found her huddled on the worn couch. "Annie?"
Suddenly, Annie launched herself at Paul as he came closer. Paul caught her in his arms as she collapsed.
"Oh, Paul. I don't know if I can do this," Annie said with despair. "He's in so much pain."
"You've got to," Paul coaxed. "It's for Peter's sake. His body has to release the toxins."
"I know. It's just so hard to listen to him when he's . . ."
Suddenly, a frightened anguish cry came from the back of the house.
"Mom! Pop! Help me! I can't stop them!"
Paul and Annie rushed to Peter's bedside. For a moment, they watched in horrid fascination as Peter's legs were kicking and twitching by them selves. A look of confusion and fear was on Peter's face.
"Please, help me! What's happening? Make them stop!"
Tears streamed down Peter's face as his legs continued to do their crazy dance. Then Paul and Annie were at his side, releasing Peter from his restraints. The worst of it had begun. Peter clung to them as his legs continued to jump and twist without any assistance. At that moment, Peter's stomach heaved and vomited white foam from his mouth. He continued to spew white liquid while his legs continued their uncontrollable shaking. The vomiting continued for nearly ten minutes until finally Peter fell back against the bed exhausted. Both his cloths and the sheets were soaked from the white liquid that had been a part of his system.
Paul and Annie were quick to respond after that. They carefully removed Peter's clothing and the sheets from the bed. Even though Peter was exhausted from the ordeal, they retied each restraint. Peter could still try to get away from them. As soon as Peter and the bed had been both stripped of their clothing, Paul took the soiled material and placed it in another room to be washed later. He then came back carrying a basin filled with water and a washcloth. In silence, both he and Annie proceeded to bathe their son. After he was sufficiently cleaned of the white foamy mess, Paul took the basin and brought back what looked like a pair of silk pajamas. After they carefully dressed Peter in the fresh clothing, they then proceeded to put down clean sheets on the bed. In order to achieve this, they were forced to remove the restraints a second time and lift Peter into a sitting position. As soon as that was done, they laid Peter back, replaced the restraints on his arms, and covered him with a blanket and left the room to allow him to sleep.
"I brought some coffee," Paul stated. "I'll make you some. It looks like it's going to be a long night. How many times will he be doing that?"
"The old man said he might react that way at least two or three times depending on the amount of morphine his system absorbed," Annie replied.
"I'll go get the rest of Peter's pajamas and some more sheets for the bed. I think I'll pick up some mattress pads as well, you know the kind that have a rubber backing so the mattress will be protected."
"Paul, did the . . . what did you call him, the Ancient? Did he say when he would be back?"
"Not until Peter was over the worst of this. He said that he had to get some herbs that would be specific for Peter to be able to clear his system of the addiction. It may take a day or two."
"I hope it won't be too long. Paul, I'm scared."
"It will be all right, Annie. Peter is strong. He'll get through this." Paul's words sounded hollow to his own ears. He hoped he wasn't wrong.
End of Part 12
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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