This was written on a whim.
Suresh banged on the door. It was barely bearable now. He would never again do this to himself. He banged again. The door almost shook off its hinges. "Are you fuckin' hearing me? Just open the damned door".
Junaid opened the door slowly. He was wearing some sort of a night-gown which probably belonged to his wife. But Suresh didn't notice it.
"I need a shot. Now!"
“A shot. A fuckin’ needle.”
"What? At this hour, man, fuck. You can't have it."
"Can't have it? Damn you. I'll snatch your balls out before I go in and take what I want..."
"I don't have any left. Your bad day, man."
"Stop fuckin' around with me. Just get out of my way." Suresh started towards the inner room. Junaid tried to stop him, but got hit on the face. A square fist to the jaw. He fell. Pain.
Stepping over Junaid, he ran to the room. It was full of yellow light. He spotted the stool in the corner. The shot was ready. He picked up the syringe. Oh God, thank God. The fucker was lying to him. You can't have it, the fuck.
He already felt better as he saw the red in the syringe. As he pushed it down, he looked around. The fucker hid the spoon and the candle and the weed before he opened the door. But couldn't hide the needle. The fucker. He smiled to himself. Wow.
Junaid, frantic, stepped into the room to find him lying on the floor, thick red blood trickling out of the nose, face shining with a smile.