I groaned waking up as the buzzer rang throughout the hallway, as once again I was forced to face the reality I was now apart of. I sat up rubbing my face as Davis jumped off of his bed and walked over to the toilet.
I stretched out and winced as pain shot through my stomach. I let out another groan letting myself fall back holding my stomach. "You sick O'Reily?" He asked as he turned around, flushing the toilet with his foot.
I sighed, sitting back up. "I don't know."
He laughed, pulling his uniform off of the bedpost and getting dressed. "Well don't puke on me." He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one which I waved away, and then left the cell still laughing.
I tried to stand up, with much trouble...my legs felt like rubber as I was hit with a wave of nausea.
I held my stomach and jumped to the toilet, throwing up what little was left inside me.
I coughed and spit, turning and leaning against the wall as I tried to catch my breath. I wiped some sweat off of my forehead watching prisoners pass me by on the way to breakfast.
I let out a laugh knowing that this was yet another meal that I would be skipping, and standing up again I was hit with another wave of nausea, and spent a few minutes gagging above the toilet, but didn't throw up.
I was thankful, but figured that it was because I had nothing in there to throw up. I crawled over to the bed, my stomach still cramping more then it ever had in my life. My mind swam with only one thought-heroin, but I knew that I shouldn't do if I was...