“Please, Michelle, you don’t understand, I HAVE get out there!” Joe was beyond the point of reasoning now, and was pleading for her to understand. He liked Michelle, he really did, and their relationship meant a lot to him. More than he could ever describe with words. But at that moment, his every instinct told him he needed to get to his car. Immediately.

“No Joe, you’re staying RIGHT HERE!” screamed Michelle, putting herself between Joe and the door. He long brown hair was a tangled mess, and she wore only a long t-shirt, bra and panties. Her make up was a tad bit smeared from the night before, and her bloodshot eyes glared at Joe from behind her glasses.

Joe, himself, was in the process of dressing himself in his clothes from the night before, hopping on his left leg while putting his right leg in his pants. His black and gray striped over shirt was unbuttoned and the collar wasn’t straight, and he only had one shoe on, while the other one lay on the ground who knew where. Michelle’s room was a mess. But he didn’t care; he just needed to get to his car.

“Michelle, please, just listen to me!” he said, zipping up his pants and looking around frantically. His car keys! Where were his care keys?! He patted his pockets as he spoke, but couldn’t feel them.

“Looking for these?” said Michelle, and Joe looked up to see her jingling the keys in front of her face. Joe stood wide-eyed. Man, she was good.

“Sweety, please, I’m not going anywhere I just have to go grab-,” he started, but she stopped him.

“No! No more pills, Joe. You have an addiction! You’re in denial!” she said. Joe’s eyebrows furrowed and he ran his hands through his short, thick dirty blonde hair. He let out a deep breath and glared at his girlfriend.

“You know I don’t do well with alcohol. Why did I even let you convince me to go to the stupid party,” he said, feeling the side affects of last nights party in his head.

“It was the only way I could get you away from you’re pills, Joe,” she said, and Joe started yelling.

“You don’t understand, Michelle! They’re medically prescribed! I need those pills so I can stay healthy!” he could feel the heat rising in his face. Michelle glared back.

“That’s not what your medical records say,” she said flatly. Joe was taken aback. He felt like he had just been shot in the chest.

“You- you looked at my medical records? Without my permission?!” Joe couldn’t believe it.

“I was getting curious about this so called ‘medical disorder’ you were referring to, yet never told me about. So I did a little research, and other then allergies, they showed no such disorder that required any need for pills what so ever!” she said. Joe couldn’t believe it.

“Michelle… how could you? That was personal! And you went behind my back and…” Joe trailed off.

“Oh don’t play the trust card, you’ve been lying to me this whole time about those stupid pills! And I didn’t stop at the records by the way. I grabbed one of your pills and had Mary take a look at it. You know, tell me what the stuff was made up of. And you know what we found?” she said, and Joe could feel the blood drain from his face. This was going very badly.

“Michelle, please, calm down,” he said in a shaky voice.

“Vicodin?! Joe, You’re addicted to pain killers!”

Joe was a mix of emotions now; fear, anger, anxiety, sadness, betrayal and it just ended up making him feel sick to his stomach. He had been so careful before. He made sure that if he and Michelle ever hooked up, it was always at his place, where his pills were right there when he woke up.

And if he ever did end up at her place, he made sure to wake up extra early to get them from his car before he started the day. But this time, another factor had been added. Booze. Beer. Whisky. Fucking alcohol. Joe mentally punched himself for letting it get this serious.

He made a few steps toward Michelle. She stood at a height of 5’8, while Joe just barely reached 5’3. But even with her added height advantage, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to overpower him. He just had to make sure not to get hurt.

“Michelle, if you let me get my pills, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Just please, you HAVE to trust me!” he said, slowly making his way towards her. His head was spinning, and he was starting to sweat. It didn’t take much, he knew. One bloody scrape, one paper cut, anything that caused him pain, and he was screwed.

Michelle backed away as her shorter, yet much stronger, boyfriend inched his way towards her. She wasn’t letting him get away that easy. They had been together for six months, and she never saw him go a day without popping those pills. At first, she had believed him about the medical disorder. It didn’t even bother her all that much at first. But when she had asked him to elaborate, he told her it was too complicated to describe.

Finally, curiosity got the best of her and she did some research. At the time, she felt bad doing it. Joe was private about his medical life. She was aware of the many Doctors appointments he attended, each one alone and each one hours long. But she had to know. And after seeing that he had no such medical disorder that required pills, she began to fear the worse.

“No Joe, I want answers now!” she said, her back now against the door. Joe had not increased the rate of his approach, but he was now getting much closer. His shoulders were tense, and she could see the sweat forming on his forehead.

“Those so-called ‘appointments’, they’re drug deals aren’t they?” she screamed, trying to stall for time until she thought of a plan.

“What? No, of course not! Michelle please, I don’t have a problem!” he said.

“Fine then, prove it. Go the whole day without any pills. Please Joe. Do it for me,” she said, lowering her voice to that of a plea. Joe sighed. He wanted to do what she asked. But he couldn’t. Not without risking his secret getting out. He put his hands up, getting ready to make a grab at the keys, yet to Michelle, it looked like he was surrendering. He kept his eyes focused both on Michelle and the keys in her hands, making him unaware of the sock that lay in his path.

“Michelle, I can’t. Trust me, I want to, but I can’t. It’s just not an option,” said Joe. Michelle gave a huff.

“Joe, don’t you hear yourself? That’s EXACTLY what someone with a DRUG problem would say,” she said, throwing her hands down in anger.

That’s when Joe made his move. He made a lunge for her right arm, which held the keys. His right foot flew forward, landing perfectly on the sock. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but to Joe, it seemed to take minutes. His feet fell from beneath him, and the speed of his lunge caused his body to do a 180 in the air. He saw the ceiling above him, and felt the immense pain as his head hit the sharp corner of a small table that lay next to the door.

Joe’s blood went cold. The immense pain from the hit had already sent him into shock, and the pain only increased when he fell to the ground. He heard Michelle scream. He turned onto his stomach to see everything was spinning.

‘It’s already starting,’ thought Joe, fear gripping his heart, which was pumping so fast, he thought it would blow right out oh his chest.

“Joe? JOE!? Are you ok? Say something! Joe!” Michelle was petrified at this point, frantic and in total panic mode. Joe’s head was now bleeding profusely, and he was struggling to his feet. She bent down and helped him up. She tried to get some sort of reaction out of him, but he was completely unresponsive.

“Joe! Joe look at me, are you ok?” she repeated, spinning Joe around so they were eye to eye. He looked terrified, which made Michelle panic even more.

Joe heard Michelle, but he was so terrified at this point, that his mouth wouldn’t move or allow any words to form. He backed away from her and ran for the bathroom.

‘She can’t see it. Not yet, NOT YET!’ he screamed in his mind. Michelle followed slowly, than broke into a run after him. Joe was faster, though, and beat her to the bathroom, where he slammed the door shut and locked it.

“Joe! Joe don’t, let’s just talk about this! Tell me you’re ok, please, just tell me!” she screamed. Joe made a mad dash across the bathroom and threw open the window. He was in full flight mode.

‘If I can just make it to my car, I’ll break in and grab the pills. I just have-,’ he didn’t finish the thought before everything blacked out.

“JOE! Open the door!” screamed Michelle, pounding on the door. Tears streaked her face. What had she done? For all she knew, Joe could have passed out and was now bleeding to death on the floor. In one last ditch effort, she backed away from the door and rammed her shoulder into it. It budged, but didn’t open. This time, she backed away, got a running start, and burst through the door, wooden splinters from the doorway flying everywhere.

“Joe!” she said, and was shocked to see him… gone.

“Joe?” she said, peering into the shower, thinking he was hiding or something. She felt a slight breeze, and she looked to see that the door was open.

“Oh no,” she said, and ran up to the window. She popped her head out and looked around. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“This is bad,” she said. Nothing had gone according to plan. She backed away from the window, and almost tripped on something lying on the floor. She looked down to see it was a pile of clothes. They were Joe’s.

“Oh god, he’s running around naked too!” she said. Running from the bathroom, she ran around her house grabbing her shoes, pants, keys, phone, and anything else she needed as quickly as she could. She ran out the door and out to her car, which was parked next to Joe’s. Before she left, though, she went into his car and rummaged around until she came out with his bottle of pills.

“Just in case he comes back,” she said. She then jumped into her car and sped down the street, looking everywhere for her maniac, drug withdrawn, boyfriend.

Joe woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, followed by the squeal of tires on asphalt as, he assumed Michelle, sped away.

“Where is she going?” he said to himself, sitting up and rubbing his head. His hand felt wet, and when he looked at it, blood coated his fingers and palm.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and the pounding in his head began. This morning had been a disaster. He looked at his surrounding and immediately knew what surround him; his boxers. He saw a light nearby and crawled towards it, holding his hand to his bloody wound.

“This is not good,” he told himself. This was by far one of the worst wounds he’d received in a long time. And to have gotten it while off his pills only added to the severity of the situation. The first question on his mind was where had Michelle gone off to? When he had reached the light, he came out to find himself on a bath mat, which was shag like in feel. The small strands of fiber that covered the carpet came past his ankles. But hey, that’s what happens when you’re only two inches tall.