Going Insane Read Online Free

before they headed to Rick’s place, Leslie concluded that drinking that particular cup of coffee had probably been the most useful thing Rick had done for her in their entire three year relationship. He saved her life that evening and it was hard to beat. It could have been her instead of Rick lying on the carpet, gasping for air, her eyes red, her hair tousled, her heart palpitating, her mouth full of foul taste, and her face glistening with sweat.
    When he fell down on the floor halfway to the door out of the office, as if shot by a well-hidden sniper, Leslie thought it was one of those stupid jokes Rick liked to play. In those few moments it took him to collapse, he looked grotesque as he chaotically swung his arms as though trying to restore his balance or reaching for something to grab onto. Only ten seconds later did Leslie realize that Rick, who was helplessly squirming of the floor like a turtle flipped on its back, was not pulling a dumb stunt and actually could not get up on his own.
    “Rick, what’s wrong?” Leslie dashed to the man and, hunching over, grabbed hold of his shoulders, in a weak attempt to lift him. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m okay, I’m okay, don’t worry,” Rick mumbled. He tried to get up, leaning on his elbows, but quickly fell back on the floor. Leslie could swear his face was turning white.
    Leslie snatched her cell phone from the purse and pushed the dial button.
    “No 911! Don’t call 911!” hissed Rick.
    “Why?” Leslie almost yelled. “Rick, something wrong is happening to you. You could be having a heart attack, do you understand that?”
    Rick waved his hand in protest.
    “Don’t call them. They’re going to test my blood. And I’ve got something in my system. Whatever you do, don’t call 911. I’ll be fine in a couple of minutes.”
    “What do you have in your system?” Leslie angrily grimaced. “Are you doing coke again? You son of a bitch are doing that shit again?”
    “If Dad finds out I was using it, he’ll cut me off, that’s what he said.” Rick’s speech was slow, his eyes turned into slits, which he obviously struggled to keep open.
    Leslie heaved a sigh. How pathetic: Rick was thirty seven years old and still depended on his rich father’s subsidies. And he still had not gotten that monkey off his back; she would not be surprised if drugs killed him in the next twelve months. 
    “Go to my car,” continued Rick. “There are adrenaline shots in the glove compartment. Bring them here. If my heart stops beating, give me a shot. Only when it stops beating, okay?”
    “Rick, you are an idiot! Did you overdose?”
    Rick shook his head.
    “Did I look overdosed when I came here? Don’t waste time, go to my car and get the adrenaline. Please. I’ll be fine.”
    Rick turned out right. He was breathing when she came back with two adrenaline syringes. His eyes were shut, there was not a flicker of movement in his entire body, but he was definitely alive: her makeup mirror misted when Leslie held it over Rick’s nostrils.
    #
    #
    Rick slept like a baby for the next three hours. He might have easily slept for another five if Leslie had not woken him up, having gotten bored of sitting in the office. Out of concern for his health—or, most likely, out of pity—Leslie drove Rick to her place and allowed him to stay the night. He was one of those people who, due to his own very questionable life choices, had never judged her and it would have been pretty sad to lose Rick only because there was no one to watch over him tonight. She poured herself half a glass of tequila and told Rick that she would break the bottle on his head if he tried to have some of it too.
    “I don’t know what was in that coffee, but whatever it was, alcohol will make things worse,” she said. Suspicions began to accumulate in her mind on the way home and once Leslie verbalized a small portion of them, she realized that it all made sense.
    With the brim of the glass pressed against