Diary of a Drug Fiend

Cold Turkey 233 am so young to die! He complains constantly of vermin under his skin. He says he could bear that; but the idea of being driven mad by the hypnotists is more than any man can be expected to stand... . I felt I should scream if I went on a moment longer ; and by scream I don’t mean just an ordinary scream, I mean that I should scream and scream and scream and never stop. The wind is howling like that. The summer has died suddenly—without a warning, and the world is scream- ing in agony. It is only the echo of the wailing for my own lost soul. The angels never come to me now. Have I forfeited my position? I am conscious of nothing but this tearing, stabbing, gnawing pain, this restless raging trembling of the body, this malignant groping of a mad surgeon in the open wound of my soul. I am so bitter, bitter cold. Yet I can’t stand the room. Peter is lying helplessly on the couch. He follows me about with his eyes. He seems to be afraid that he will be caught out in something. It’s like it was when we had dope. Though we knew we were taking it, offering it to each other openly, yet whenever we took it ourselves, we were afraid lest the other should know. I think he has something that he wants to hide away, and is trying to get me out of the room so that I shan’t know where he has put it. Well, I don’t care, I’m not interested in his private affairs. I’ll go out and give him a chance. I'll hide this book in the magic room, if I have strength to get there. The old man might be able to give me some elixir. I wouldn’t mind if it killed my body; if my spirit were free I could fulfil my destiny... . Just as I closed the book I heard an answering shot. It must have been the door, for the old man has come in. He has a marvellous light in his eyes, and he radiates rainbow colours throughout the world. I understand