Bach played softly in the background as she pulled the rubber band tightly around her forearm. To think only seven months ago she was terrified of needles, now she watched as her veins pumped up, fat as little earth worms.
Her husband was always yelling at her to have more self-control. He wanted her to lose weight, look perfect, to be a perfect house wife, hostess and dinner companion. A trophy wife. No kids for them. That would deform her body.
Another lonely housewife had given her the secret to doing everything he wanted. Slowly, she inserted the needle into her arm. The warm fluid flowed through her, easing the sorrow that coursed through her body.
"Hello sorrow my old friend." She sang over the Back. She smiled, pleased at the word switch.
Sorrow was her constant companion. It coursed through her veins alongside her blood and drugs.
Her weight lose had been dramatic. She felt like Wonder Woman, until it wore off and she would sneak away and start all over again.
Surely, her husband must know what she was doing. After all this was not a cheap habit. He must not care. This saddened her even more. Now, she was invited to parties. Now, he wanted to touch her. Now, she didn't want him to.
It would take so little to end this madness. A little extra in the syringe, and poof she would be gone. How embarrassing that would be for him. His wife, laying in a foaming pile of vomit and her own secretions. His wife, a drug addict and the whole world would know.
Looking down at her arm, rubber band still in place, she smiled as she refilled the syringe one last time.