“Mom, I don’t want to be at rehabilitation center. I want to here. Why cant I live with you.” 25 year old rohan was screaming clinging to his mother’s saree end. Under winter night sky. Clock was ticking silently. So silent only his voice was echoing. While warden drags him to his room. Eyes filled with water mother stood still. Rohan was shivering, his pale hands were begging for love. Brain blasting with every possible thought of running away. And he was locked up.
First few days at rehabilitation were fine. Rohan showed some progress. Till one day began he began screaming shouting, yelling. I need cocaine where is my fucking ciggarate, god bring back my life. He started crying, beating his head on wall and got badly injured. He was scream for ciggrate. His veins were swelled up. His eyes were red. Blood vessels marked up. Lips were dried and black. He fell on bare ground like dead body. Calm, still and dead. When doctors arrived he was taken to chamber. Was given electric shocks to revive. Rohan responded.
He was kept in total isolation. Dark room, grey swollen walls. Showing world though just one window. These rehabilitation centers are very strange place. Jail made by human to release human from jail made by themselves. .. one night when every one was sleeping. Lights were off. Only cool winter moon could reach from that window. He stole fork from mess. Murmuring Metallica’s Nothing else matters. Rohan riped off his veins. And he lays till on ground. in subconscious mind.