Im a Creep (updated)

I slowly began to turn the door handle, as quiet as possible waiting for the click that would let me know the door was unlocked. Time momentarily stopped like a quiz contestant hoping to win the ultimate prize and pray luck was on their side, for me however there was no luck merely a conscientious or careless home owner and even if the door was unlocked I was far from winning my prize instead onto the next level, not knowing what may await me the other side of the door.


On the way to the door my body had writhed in pain as surges of sickness throbbed through my body like an electrical current as the narcotic substance, that only hours earlier had floated through my veins like an ornate sea vessel filled with angels, now began to subside leaving every nerve in my body exposed to the unforgiving external environment with no means of protection. Now however the focus I required to get in this house and obtain my reward temporarily blocked this out. Even the wind that cut through my sweat soaked back like an Arctic blizzard paled in comparison as all pain succumbed to my drive


The late autumn months made this type of activity perfect as the day had darkened by the time most returned from work, their minds still swirled with the daily trivialities that their employment had presented to them. Many still preoccupied would put their belongings on the first table to the house door, flick the lights on, and then go up the stairs maybe to run a bath or get changed. The curtains wouldn't be closed until late, allowing an observer such as me to look into the house from the street and see who was in and where but without them seeing me why would they lock their door it was early and people don't try and break into your house whilst your there, that when you are on holiday or in the middle of the night.

It wasn't the ideal occupation as the risks were high entering a house whilst the owner was in, they generally weren't happy to see you, and the possibilities of what they might do to you doesn't bare thinking about.
The law of the land also generally frowned upon this type of activity, this wasn't simple theft, you were almost pushing fate, as well as making people not feel safe in their own homes you were putting people face to face with those bad people they saw on television putting them in a situation where have to make decisions that don’t want to.


I mean I knew my intentions, to basically take whatever I could that could be changed into drugs as quickly as possible at the particularly moment of time.
The house occupant however they didn't know why I was there and to them I could be a murderer or a rapist, coming to attack them or their family. Put people in the position where they fear for their life or that of their family's and they will quickly out of character


Certain neighbourhoods seemed easier to work than others, not just because the rich inhabitants had more wealth to consume, but also the common layout of some areas gave definite advantage. Terrace houses which could be viewed from both sides or it was possible to completely see through the house from one side at the ground level gave favour, some thing I'm sure the architects more preoccupied with the facade and decorative finishes, didn't appreciate or consider years earlier.

The best find at any time of day or night was cash easily exchangeable and untraceable this could get you were you wanted to be quickly then easily converted into the drugs. The next best thing after cash was dependant on the time and location, generally jewellery or the latest technological gadgets were sort after as these have a common value and could be traded with more people. Anything that you knew a local dealer or fence had mentioned they were interested in. There were plenty of other items which could also be of great value in some cases far my valuable than all the cash in the house. However due to their size and the difficulty of carrying them, or being so specialised that they couldn't be converted into cash there and then, fell down the list. It was no good having an item that was worth a few grand if it meant you were going have to lay at home as time stopped and the sickness worsened waiting for the morning to greet you so you could go eventually.


An oddball friend of mine had first made me aware of this activity once whilst smoking in his flat, laughing as he told me the time when he had sneaked through someone’s patio doors one summer looking for something of value to steal and nearly been scared to death as suddenly music blasted out in front of him whilst he crawled across the floor, momentarily he curled up and froze then after what seemed like an age he looked up undisturbed to see a rather over weight woman in a tracksuit with here back to him awkwardly trying to perform an aerobics workout to her music. Once he returned to his senses after overcoming what seemed a slightly surreal set of circumstances that he had stumbled onto he looked for his quickest escape route when he notice the woman's handbag just behind her. Completely unaware that an intruder was literally just behind her the woman continued her uncoordinated bouncing around as my friend crept backwards delicately clutching her hand bag. Once he left he said his heart was pounding overwhelmed with a confused feeling of fear and excitement wrapped into amplified even further by the wedge of money he found in the handbag. A feeling I would eventually love and despise soon enough.


The first time I tried it I was with a group of others, and it seemed I was the one doing all the work, I didn't like doing it as a group, it didn't matter how quiet you were you had no control over the noise the others made, and their nerves would generally make them pushy and agitated, if a circumstance arose where the house owner became suspicious and your fellow creepers had to be quiet to prevent your capture they would generally look after themselves not caring if there panic driven escape resulted in your own presence been noticed. After two or three unsuccessful attempts as a group I decided this wasn't working out however as a way to make money alone it definitely had potential.


At the time I rented a room in the attic of a large house in a rather well off area, I was still working when I moved in allowing me the relevant access to bond money and references of my character, something your average drug addict didn't have. The landlord of the house was a huge slightly backwards man who had one side of his face blown off during a mining accident and with the compensation money for his injuries had bought this vast house as well as his newly wed Filipino wife which he had recently purchased via the Internet. The houses location was within a simple maze labyrinth residential area where it seemed which ever street you turned up you always seemed to end where you started. The first house I ever tried I could through the window there was no one in the house on the ground floor but there were lights on both upstairs and down. I felt quite confident as I tried the door handle and to my surprise it opened straight away, as soon as I entered the house I looked around the particularly bare entry room and noticed a wad of cash notes on a badly painted unused white fire place. I grabbed the money and run and once a few blocks away completely undetected with a nice amount of money I almost skipped up the road trying to come to terms with how easy it was.


The second night I went out again and almost weirdly the first house I tried again was unlocked and in the first room I entered was another wedge of money which by pure coincidence happened to be the exact same amount as the previous day. I strolled away and thought this was meant to be, how easy was this, everyone leaves open there doors and leaves there money lying around. This was so easy, none of these destructive noisy breaking and entering empty houses ever knowing if someone has heard you and notified the police and they could be there any minute.


As my confidence grew I became fearless, and began doing this all over the place at different times of day, trying it in places Id never thought of as I travelled to and from places unrelated to my chaos consumed world.


After a while as I tried more and more houses I found that generally more people had their doors locked than not, whether the first few I tried that were open was purely luck or whether my activities had been made aware to the general public by word of mouth or media I did not know, all I did know was houses to enter were getting few and far between, so when I did find an unlocked house I had to make the most of it, sometimes taking greater risk. One thing I did do was return to a number of houses I had previously stolen from before. Stepping back and looking at this logically this isn't a good idea however to the desperate thief the familiarity and the previous successful entry made these properties very appealing. Some of the houses I went back to I was successful again. I mean if I entered the house without anyone seeing me or being aware I had been there how would they know that they had been stolen from. I often wondered what people would think when they couldn't find their money or belongings, maybe they would think they had left it somewhere else them search the house as I often did form my keys, or perhaps thought someone else in the house had taken it. It’s unlikely they would automatically think that someone had crept into their house and rummaged through their possession's as they sat and vegetated in front of the television.


Work was good many a successful evening and my nerves had definitely calmed, I had just the right level of substance in my system, enough to take away the aches but not to much to sedate my senses and slower my reflexes. I was getting quite good at the whole creeping into peoples houses and my increased controlled risk taking was given me a better return for my time. One evening as I strolled up the street a particular house presented itself to me, everything seemed right about it. I gently turned the kitchen door and it was as though I knew it was going to open before it did. Once it opened I crept into the kitchen which was very dated. The decoration was old and the appliances were somewhat basic, the people of this house were definitely of simple tastes. Instead of searching the kitchen I continued to creep further into the house. There was a shard of light giving some visibility on the other dark hallway, coming from the narrow gap where the door for the lounge was partially open. The television was the only sound coming from the room and there was no noise of movement of the people sat in the room. I continued past the room and looked upstairs from the foot of the stairs. Once on the stairs there was no going back, if I raised the attention of the people they would be between me and my only means of escape. I edged my way up the stairs carefully to prevent any creaking noises and straight into the bedrooms. The bedroom curtains were open and the light from the street lamps shone in and lit up the whole room. The decoration of the bedroom was same as that of the rest of the house plain and dated but over on the bedside table was the biggest jewellery box. Jewels of all sizes filled the box and its multiple compartments, not just large ornate sentimental rings and broaches but big big chunky gold and diamond rings, ones no jeweller in their right mind would turn down.

I wouldn’t say it was arrogance but more like narcotic induced ignorance maybe bordering on stupidity, but I started the think I was invisible, I mean I was going into 5 or 6 houses every night undetected and pretty much helping myself. I even started using an expensive mountain bike which I had stolen from the back of a restaurant as my means of transport, which I would prop up outside the house as I entered looking for goods. One night for some reason I had travelled further than the normal cosy middle class suburban areas which I usually favoured and had ended up in the more working class red brick old industrial terrace houses. Now favoured by the Pakistani community, students and white down. Usually not a type of area I would usually try as the people who lived her had less to steal and were generally a little more cautious about the safety of the goods they did have. I thought I might as well try one whilst I was here after all I was practically invisible these days and I had nothing to lose, other than perhaps my freedom and maybe my ability to walk. I cycled up to the back of a mid terrace and perched my bike against the back wall. I peered through the window and the house had the appearance of being a shared property, with scruffy looking unkempt communal areas and fridges and other appliances not in the kitchen but in the hall way, I also noticed some expensive goods scattered around the place. I could see there was no one in the back of the house so I almost carelessly opened the back door. In the hall way was a two very expensive mountain bikes chained to a radiator, definitely a shared house possibly a student one. Student houses were good they were very dirty and nothing of value was left lying around in the communal areas but if you got into the rooms you were guaranteed some expensive items. As I walked into the house I could here soft music coming from the front room and the familiar aroma of strong weed. I crouched to the floor and crept into the room, it was darkened but the lack of light didn’t hide the dirtiness of the room, the carpet smelt and was littered with remnants of take aways and of goods days gone by. They had tried to split the room in two by using a large tie dye sheet suspended from the ceiling. The position of the sofa meant they had there backs to me so they couldn’t see me creeping around behind them. Leaning against the sofa was a top of the range electric bass guitar obviously some ones pride and joy. Tonight though it was going to be mine.

I knew my days were numbered and I had to end my good run, and look onto different money making activities when I was almost caught twice.

Someone I knew had been telling a group of us back at the hostel about being caught in a house, he had broken into it, and after about five minutes of looking around the house the owner had come back and found him. The owner was shocked but was determined to not let the lad go however trying to detain the boy and ring the police at the same time became too much and a fight broke out between the two of them, I guess the intruder had more to fight for than the owner, as he got the better of him and escaped. Being beaten then held by the man until the police arrived would have meant definite eventual incarceration, as breaking into someone’s house then having a fight was a serious event. I often thought about such scenarios as I didn’t like confrontations or violence at the best of times.


The first time I was almost caught I had returned to the same house for the third time. Both previous visits had been successful however the third wasn’t to be. The first room you entered from the back do was an undecorated room used for storage, and not a room people would inhabit for long periods of time. The first two times I had been there I had picked up cash and electrical goods, however on this third visit there were only larger items. It was already a particularly unsuccessful night hence my third return, and the only item I could see of value was a large set of golf clubs. As I picked them up and began to walk to the door I heard someone alert the other members of the house and then I could hear a number of people frantically trying to run through the house to where I was to try and get me, as they got closer they began to shout at me and I momentarily looked back and saw an angry face glaring at me as surged towards me. As I jumped through the backdoor I dropped the golf clubs which luckily blocked the entrance and as I darted through the back gate into the maze like backstreets I could hear the people struggling with moving the trapped golf bag and arguing with each other about me getting away. As I had done many times before and after I literally sprinted till I knew I was safe, I knew I had got away from them but also the police would be all over the place. This was the first time someone had sighted me and I knew it wasn’t good.


A few days later I bumped into a fellow addict criminal, more of an acquaintance than a friend. There was a strong network of us, who you would exchange information with from time to time. Who was selling good drugs? Good ways of making money? Who was talking to the police, you couldn’t completely trust them but some of the information was invaluable on increasing the longevity of your freedom. Anyway this guy looked a lot like me, though unlike me at the time he was well known to the local police as a prolific criminal. As we talked he complained that the other night he had been dragged out of his house in the middle of the night by the police in connection with a number of creep burglaries in the area where I had been working. He mentioned that another lad Duggy had also been in the cells at the same time over the same matter, but neither of them knew anything about it. I didn’t mention my involvement because I knew they sell me out as soon as look at me. I knew though things were not good and I should perhaps cut my losses whilst I still could.


The final straw came at the end of a particularly bad night where I literally spent hours and hours trying house after house without success, I had tried so many doors to only find them locked I became careless and was almost not even concentrating on one particular door, so sure it would be locked liked all the others that I didn’t turn it with the caution I should, even when it started to open it took a moment for me to register it was opening, as I snapped to my senses I began to step into the house. As I looked up a man was the other side of the door going about his business. He looked up at me and we both froze for what seemed like an eternity before he suddenly bolted toward me, in a panic I ran back out and through his garden looking back to see him almost catching me. I ran as fast as I could and I could hear his steps behind me, I ran till I felt sick but knew I couldn’t stop, I wanted to look back but feared it would slow me and he would catch me. I ran across the estate till I couldn’t run any further I couldn’t hear the man anymore so looked behind and luckily he had gone.

Break a leg

Shards of glass shot in every direction as the window began to shatter, the small portable television set I had thrown hit its surface. Up until that moment the others in the room felt almost relaxed in the control they had over the situation but now I had taken that from them, you could see in expressions in their faces. First a shocked blank look followed by that realisation of the shift of control, and now fear of the unknown events that would now ultimately follow. Without time to dwell on this any further I flung my badly beaten body at the window aiming for the largest glass free section, it was a long way down but after what had happened I felt free for but a moment and totally in control. I didn't think of landing my thoughts too caught up in the event that had driven me to jumping out of a second storey window consumed my mind. Even as I hit the floor I felt a sudden pain in my legs as they crumpled with the impact, but not a pain that was unbearable. The euphoria of escaping a situation that only moments early I thought I would never leave were short lived as I got up to run through the gate only to find both ankles completely shattered and my feet now limp lifeless entities hanging off the ends of my legs giving way under me as I tried to stand on them, and the pain, oh the pain. Not just a physical one but one of fear knowing what I had done to my body. We all make mistakes and do things we regret but we can usually walk away thinking oh well I made a mistake I wont do that again. This was different, this was serious, this was going to have an impact on every day for the rest of my life, I had permanently damaged my body and there was no turning back.


 Realising I couldn't run away I began to scream help, praying someone would hear me as I crawled up my garden path pulling my body with my arms. I could hear my captors hurtling down the steps desperate to stop me bringing my predicament to anyone's attentions. I could hear them erratically fumbling with the wood they had earlier used to barricade my front door to prevent my escape, which was now preventing them from leaving. They managed to prize open the door and both grabbed me and told me to shut up as they tried dragging me into the house. By now I had crawled to the front gate and fixed both my arms around it, despite them both pulling me and kicking me in the head I clung on with a new strength that I some how mustered deep with in, almost like a climber hanging off a rock face by one hand knowing if he let go he would fall to his death. What would they do to me if they got me back into the house, they had gone too far they know they had, there was no turning back, this had reached the damage limitation stage, this could only get worse to cover up what they had already done.


As people began looking out of the windows of neighbouring houses my captors, realising they weren't going to get me in the house, panicked and ran back into the house then out again and up the street. People came running out of their houses to help me. For a moment I felt an amazing relief that they had gone, but I knew this was short lived, I was laid on the street in a pool of blood with both my legs shattered outside my house that had every single room in it stacked with thousands of pounds worth of stolen goods and half the cities police and medics on its way.


You didn't need to be an eastern religious philosopher to know that perhaps Id just been dealt a bad hand of karma. I knew as they ran up the street this wasn't the end but more like the beginning and things were going to get much worse before they began.


This had all started much earlier when I met one of my captors Manny. We met through a friend, who's house we would both congregate at to take drugs. Manny who was ten years my senior at first didn't like me, we used argue all the time, he didn't like this young arrogant lad with quick tongue who could make him look bad. But in time we worked together and he realised I was good at making money, I came up with good plans and had balls to pull them off. It was a mutual arrangement as Manny had quite a good car which could get me around to execute my plans, and he was quite handy with his fists which meant I could go about my daily business of ripping people off without having to suffer any violent consequences. Over the time I saw him turn on quite a few people, he could be friendly one minute than snap and seriously hurt someone, it was never me, however I had met people like this before and I knew if you stayed around them, eventually your time would come and you would be on the receiving end.


He had a nice house and his wife had a nice sports car, which she couldn't park near the shop that she managed because it would get broken into so Manny would drive her to work drop her off then have the car all day. It was very useful because we could get all over the place committing crimes anywhere we wanted, plus it looked nice so didn't draw attention to us. We made a lot of money for minimum risk for some time.
Though it all came to an end when his old friend Alex was released from prison after a long prison sentence for robberies.


Alex was a small stocky guy with a slightly too well groomed pony tail, he took the small man syndrome to new level and had a definite chip on his shoulder which had only been hardened by the long sentences he had served. He had different views to me, and wasn't about to be told otherwise by some one as young as me. He thought he was a proper criminal as he had spent so long in prison and was more into the more serious crime that gave better returns though if you caught as he seemed to be you would be dealt with harshly. Prison has an internal status style pecking order based on the crime you are in there for, the more severe the crime the higher up you were, this moulded criminals into only committing these more severe crimes upon their release, almost seeing a return to prison as inevitable and therefore looking to increase their social standing within the criminal classes. To me, I had no interest climbing the prison corporate ladder, being looked up to and respected by a bunch of  inmates who would stitch you up as soon as look at you had no appeal to me. I mean if they were so good at crime why were they always locked up. They had spent so much time in side they had barely even committed any crime. Anyway Alex's release was the beginning of the end for my partnership in crime with Manny. They began committing burglaries on a night time, the only reason I remained of any use to them was because I rented a room in a large empty house that was perfect for storing stolen goods. The house I was living in was perfect I rented a room off a local thug name Dean Thorne not a man to be crossed, it was some kind of fraudulent affair I believe he was claiming rent money off the government for renting the other rooms to imaginary tenants, I never quite got to find out exactly what scam he was running but it was probably best I didn't  Alex and Manny soon started turning up with cars full of stolen good from houses and sorted me out for keeping the stuff at my house, they would occasionally return to pick up goods to sell, but they seemed to be stealing more than they were selling, quickly the house was rapidly filling with goods and soon the high performance cars they were turning up in with were also stolen from the same houses and with the keys, these also started to litter the once empty parking spots of my road. As my earning spree through the day started to tail off with Manny, I began to waken every morning with the sickness of the drug withdrawal taking its toll and with no way of earning any money, It didn't help to be surrounded by thousands of pounds of stolen goods. At first I would take small amounts nothing too significant, hoping they wouldn't notice. I didn't see them for weeks but they were still  dropping goods off when I was out because every time I came back, there were more goods. Eventually what I took was getting out of hands as I began to take larger items. Life was momentarily good, I would wake up, phone a taxi grab a couple of video players go sell them, buy my drugs then return back, even the Pakistani taxi drivers that gave me a lift started buying bits off me, I would bring them into the house open up a cupboard door and say take your pick, before I knew it they would be back with their friends also wanting a great deal. All good things have to come to an end they say and they surely did.

The night of my down fall started off like any other, after a particularly easy day I left my dealers house on the estate the other side of town.  I had become by now well known to the local police, not just the beat coppers but also the local plain clothed drug squad and higher level detectives. They knew that nearly all of my day revolved around drugs or crimes to fund drugs, so they knew if they every saw me the chances of catching me doing something I shouldn't or in possession of something illegal were high. If they caught me with the smallest amount of drugs they knew they could lock me in the cells whilst my sickness worsened so they could try and prize information out of me due to my weakened state or search where ever I was living in the hopes of finding something even more incriminating.  This made travelling too and from my dealers house with drugs a cautious journey. Although buying a large amount off the dealer , he only had it in small wrapped deals which made it difficult to conceal. I decided to place each wrap between my fingers, so if I was stopped I could lift my heads above my head with my hands open but with my fingers pressed together so it appear my hands where open and empty as they searched my clothes. I even did a practise run in the entrance of the dealers before I walked away. My pre-planning and practise run were not to go to waste as within ten minutes of walking down the road that all too familiar unmarked police car pulled up. It was the usual two CID detectives who always seemed to turn up everywhere. The older one was a bald man with a  thick moustache that only law enforcement or military men seemed to have, he had been around the block enough times to have seen almost everything and had been hardened by it all, his general belief in human nature was not a good one as he had seen the depths of human depravity time and time again. His partner was much younger and more active, fit looking not that much older than me and a face that wouldn't look out of place on a policeman or a criminal. He always tried to relate to me, as I suppose he wasn't much older, maybe if things in life had been only been slightly different we could have almost traded positions maybe. Any way they gave me the usual questions as they began to search me, as I had already planned I held my hands above me in a slightly cupped but open fashion as me fingers pressed together holding in place the wraps. My heart beat hard and I did everything to calm my voice and not give anything away as I talked to them. A combination of training and experience had made them very perceptive of human behaviour and how it unconditionally gave away things about the individual, which would make them step up, there search.  Eventually they found nothing and jumped in their cars and drove away. I felt relived and almost cocky as I had got one over on them as I strolled down the road. However if they had of found the drugs on my, they would have arrested me taken me in, then gone to my house to search it, finding Manny and Alex, who unknown to me where waiting in my house for me, surrounded by stolen goods, then the events of the evening that would later unfold would never happen. I would have been convicted of possession of drugs and handling of stolen goods and and would have thought it had been a bad night, however I would never of known how lucky id been. This wasn't to happen however as they didn't catch me and instead I skipped home to my house of horrors.

As I walked through my front door I sensed something was right, there were pieces of wood next to the front door and the lights were on upstairs, as I walked into my room Alex and Manny were waiting there faces looked angry. Manny ran down stairs and began boarding the door up with the wood as Alex picked up a wooden bat and started screaming at me asking where his stuff was. Manny ran up and they both began saying the same. I began to lie saying someone else must have taken the goods but they didn't belie me, Alex began to swing the piece of wood at me with all his force as Manny punched and kicked at me as Id seen him do to so many others in the past. In a panic my body's natural reflexes began to kick in as I cowered and flayed my arms to minimise the blows to my body, I dint feel the punches and kicks but as the wood bat struck me each time I felt cold pain in each point. As he kept hitting me with it the pain from the previous hits didn't go away  but was merely added to as it repeatedly connected with my head and body. As the blows continued I managed to squeeze in a corner between the wall and a large wardrobe, it meant I was completely trapped but limited the directions in which blows could be directed at me. Now they could only come from the front and they fumbled with each other as they tried to strike me at the same time, however the amount of room only allowed one to hit me at a time. Alex could also no longer swing the wood at me to gain momentum as he struck me and could only raise the wood into the air then bring it crashing down on me. He was aiming for my head with all his force I remember thinking he is trying to kill me and this is way over the top for taking a few of his things that he had already stolen. The attack went on for some time, I held my forearms above my head to block the blows from the wood, I looked at my forearms and they were swollen already like balloons in severe pain but yet I held them there above my head. When I thought it would never end they both stepped back out of breathe, there attack had been so vicious and sustained they literally couldn't continue. Alex sat on the bed and lit a cigarette  and looked at me. Manny lit a cigarette and said when he had finished smoking this I had better tell them the truth as he was going to fuck me up. I continued to lie, what else could I do the stuff was gone I couldn't get it back, what was going to happen if I confessed I would just give them more justification to continue to fuck me up. My entire body was racked with pain, my eyes flickered around the room as my mind working on over time tried to think of a way I was going to get out of this. I looked at the window and thought I just going to have to get out of here one way or another. I'm going to have to jump through the window, but the glass would cut me to shreds I must break it. Alex was sat smoking, sneering at me talking aggressively. I walked over to the small portable black and white TV and began to unplug it. Alex looked at me mockingly as though I was going to try and give him the TV as some kind of compensation even though it was worse less that the plug on the end of the lead. As I threw the television he knew I had taken control from him, and what happened now was up to me.


As I was driven up the road in the ambulance the gas I sucked on did nothing for my pain only allow my mind to drift occasionally from conscious thought. Like the true junkie I was the first thing I did was check that the drugs I had so easily managed to sneak past the police were still in my pocket despite being bounced around my house by two attackers and plunging two floors to the ground through my own bedroom window. It meant everything to me as in the depths of my pocket those little packets of pain relief sat undisturbed. All I could think of was that some time soon I would be able to take them and momentarily relieve myself from my present situation.


My legs weren't just broken they were shattered at both ankles with the two legs bones that join at the knee separated. The hospital staff worked through the night fixing my legs repositioning the bones and drilling them to position steel rods to fix the bones together permanently in place. As I woke up the next day the whole situation began to dawn on me as the pain from my legs began to take hold of my body. My whole body was battered and bruised and any movement caused great pain, the palms of my hands were cut to shreds from the glass and had fresh stitches all over them, despite the pain I had to see my legs, I had to see what I had done to them, and what I needed to do to them. The pain was unbearable as I pulled away the blankets, my legs were purple and along the front of them were two long cuts with the excess skin from either side pulled together tightly then held together by a long row of metal staples, from the wounds protruded two large tubes with drew away the excess blood and bodily fluid and ran it into two bags suspended next to the bed with a brown reddy fluid already gathering inside. They had put me on methadone to ease the withdrawal symptoms which seemed to take away the withdrawal feelings but without the pain eliminating or euphoric feelings. My senses again felt exposed to my unforgiving surroundings, I just wanted to curl up and hide from the world but instead I was laid on a bed in a very busy ward surround by people and I was unable to move.