the Kaufman Unit.three

Hayden was [pissed]. She felt lightheaded, like after the first cigarette of the morning. She wanted to scream at Dr. DarkEyes, but she couldn’t. She wanted a cigarette, but that wasn’t possible either. The nicotine patches just weren’t the same. She missed the hiss of the match as she struck it lit. She missed the taste of tobacco and menthol. But mostly she missed the way it felt to hold the cigarette between her fingers as she pressed it to her mouth and took that first drag. She wanted the calm that came with it. Hayden lay down on the generic sheets, hating the way they felt rough and unwelcoming against her bare skin. Song Draft was singing aloud to her wireless radio headphones again, but Hayden didn’t care that much anymore. At least she didn’t have The Screamer as her roommate.