Caffeine Rush

She sat comfortably by the sofa chair.  With her four fingers, she carefully took a sip of her favorite drink, pinkies pointing outward.  Caramel Macchiato.  Nice.  She lingered on and tried to people watch.  A guy, probably by his mid-thirties, clad in lavender long sleeves and a tie that screams red sunset, is reading a newspaper right across her table.  Some fangirls-wannabe were chitchatting at the table beside her.  She put on her earphones and tried to channel out the coffeehouse noise.

She took another sip.  Sweet, yet bitter.  Just the way I want it.  Trickles of sweat started dripping down her forehead.  Memories of the night that passed by flashed by her eyes, as if she was transported to another world.  No, that wasn't right.  It definitely is not.

She took another sip.  She saw the pictures once again.  Vivid as they have always been.  The memories won't leave her alone.  Stressful, defnitely stressful.  She took yet another sip.  Ow!  Her tongue got burned.  Ow, ow ow ow!  She tried to retain her composure while secretly hiding her pain inside.

She dashed by the condiments counter to get a glass of cold water to soothe her burning tongue.  Cold... it was definitely cold.  Dark, yet the memories are all clear.  Vignettes, pictures... moving.  She couldn't take them off her mind.

She went back to her seat and donned her earphones once again.  She took another sip.  This time, the coffee tasted strong.  It was more bitter than it had usually been.  Cold, and lingering.  Lingering cold...  I knew I shouldn't have.  She took another sip.  She remembered battling with her senses, trying hard not to fall for anything other than what she could handle.  But she didn't win.  She plunged into it.  It was nice at first... but turned sour right after.  She took another sip.  The taste of caramel was no longer there.

Slowly, her heart started to race.  The whirr of the espresso machine made no significant contribution.  Thump, thump, thump.  She took another sip of her coffee.  It didn't taste like anything at all.  She was sweating... real hard.  The room started to feel really hot, yet cold sweat ran down her cheeks... she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe...

She took another sip of her coffee.  It tasted really sour.  She spat it back to her cup.  Her vision was starting to get blurry.  Cold, and scary... I didn't know what to do.  I had no choice.  Black... and dreary... and miserable.  Her hands started to shake.  She started to get restless.  Heart thumping like crazy.  She moved in and about her seat.  She looked at every direction.  She was going crazy.  Going really crazy.  She couldn't take it anymore.  She can't do it anymore.

The door of the coffeehouse opened. She died in her seat.  Her coffee was still half-full... or is it half-empty?