Post by Diane McLain on Feb 10, 2010 14:44:56 GMT
The flame burst into a blue life, expanding into a brilliant orange. A hand shielded it from the slightly breeze that was blowing through the leaves, as the flame was brought closer to the white stick held loosely by her mouth. The paper sizzled and blackened, the brown insides twisting and sparkling with soft red flecks.
She took in a breath in, holding it in her two fingers as she breathed out. She rested her head back, feeling the drug settling her nerves and completely relaxing her. It had been more of an effect than she had expected. The packet was full except for the one in her hand, and she slid it and the lighter into her pocket. It had been her first packet, her first cigarette, though she'd been 'addicted' to passive smoking from a young age. Her family were mostly made up of heavy smokers, the toxic smell bringing her comfort and a feeling of home. She had never really understood just what the appeal was, until that first drag.
She smiled to herself, her head lolling against the side of the great oak tree. She needed to be surrounded by things of comfort, her world feeling like it was falling apart, as per usual. She didn't know why, but this place, this tree, filled her with warmth and the echo of good memories, even though she couldn't remember what they were. Maybe it was a past life... she thought to herself, pulling her legs closer to herself as she took another puff.
She was surprised - the smoke felt natural, and it didn't even hurt her sore, damaged lungs and throat. If anything, it soothed them. Her muscles were still weak, and probably would be the rest of her life, not that she had any use for them being strong. She had been unable to gain any weight so far, but had many soluble foods in her bag to drink whenever she felt hungry. She knew how it would look, the frail anorexic girl in an over-sized hoodie with tattoos still visable smoking away her worries. And for once, she didn't care.
She took in a breath in, holding it in her two fingers as she breathed out. She rested her head back, feeling the drug settling her nerves and completely relaxing her. It had been more of an effect than she had expected. The packet was full except for the one in her hand, and she slid it and the lighter into her pocket. It had been her first packet, her first cigarette, though she'd been 'addicted' to passive smoking from a young age. Her family were mostly made up of heavy smokers, the toxic smell bringing her comfort and a feeling of home. She had never really understood just what the appeal was, until that first drag.
She smiled to herself, her head lolling against the side of the great oak tree. She needed to be surrounded by things of comfort, her world feeling like it was falling apart, as per usual. She didn't know why, but this place, this tree, filled her with warmth and the echo of good memories, even though she couldn't remember what they were. Maybe it was a past life... she thought to herself, pulling her legs closer to herself as she took another puff.
She was surprised - the smoke felt natural, and it didn't even hurt her sore, damaged lungs and throat. If anything, it soothed them. Her muscles were still weak, and probably would be the rest of her life, not that she had any use for them being strong. She had been unable to gain any weight so far, but had many soluble foods in her bag to drink whenever she felt hungry. She knew how it would look, the frail anorexic girl in an over-sized hoodie with tattoos still visable smoking away her worries. And for once, she didn't care.
