Kyra
The doors to the clinic opened, and a man came in. He was jumpy, twitchy and his eyeballs were shifting all over the place. He was sweating and he had stringy dirty blonde hair.
“I need some help. You got to get my skin to stop itching, it's driving me crazy.”
I stood up and rounded the desk. I saw Josh pull out his phone and shoot off a text.
“Sir, did you take something today?”
“What no, I’m not a j*nkie,” he said offended. But his pupils were pinpoints, and the needle marks on his arms he kept scratching said otherwise.
“Okay, sir. What about medicine? Are you on any medication?”
“No, nothing.”
“Sir, I need you to be honest with me. I’m not here to judge you, I just need to know what you’ve taken so I can help you. I can’t help you if I don’t know the truth.”
“Just g
