Might get published someday

This is a little bit from a novelish piece I am writing. It's working title is "Just Another Dystopia" Um, there's really no good place to start, and I don't feel like sharing the beginning just yet, so let me just catch you up. It's in a future government-ruled, social darwinism, collapsing society. The main characters (so far) are Brit, a junkie who is an aspiring writer in a world that doesn't need writers and a lazy slob who is in love with Randy, her government working, secretly gay (not to Brit) because he doesn't want to lose his job boyfriend. At this part, Brit has just overdosed and taken another pill to help her feel better.

"I know," said Brit, "Why does everything have to change?" Randy shook his head and sighed. Brit shivered, then started coughing. Her stiff back almost broke as the coughing heaved her chest up. Wheezing, she imagined her lungs collapsing. She hated the "health rejuvination" pill. It was worse than the original pain.
"Give me your arm," Randy spoke softly. Limply, she outstretched her arm to him. Precisely, gently, a razor buried itself in her arm. Blood flowed in dark lines down her arm, warmly streamed onto her hands, finally dripping off of her fingertips. Randy placed a plastic bowl under her fingers. Steadily the dark liquid filled the bowl. Brit's eyelids fluttered. She was close to fainting.
"That should be enough," Randy said to himself. A hand went into his pocket and then a thin white piece cloth was wrapped around the bloody wound and tied very tight. It would take a while for the blood to clot. The "health rejuvination" was also an anticoagulant. "Hold on, Brit," Randy whispered. Brit's eyes were closed, but she was still concious.
"Don't be late for work." Brit mumbled, not opening her eyes. Randy sighed.
"Brit , don't. Okay?" He was nervous. Brit nodded, then shuddered, convulsed to her side, and vomited. Randy didn't say a word as he searched for a towel, and wiped her mouth. She had a cold sweat.
"Brit," he began, but she had passed out again. Randy got up from the littered floor and went into the other room. "Teddy" had left long ago, but his red boxers remained on the floor next to the make-shift bed of packing foam and dirty sheets. Randy collapsed onto the bed. He could hear Brit in the other room, wheezing as her body tried to cleanse itself. Why does she do this to herself? he thought. He let the thoughts lift from his mind, assuring himself the pill would work. It had always worked before. His muscles relaxed, his legs dangling off the side of the bed. He had to work in just a few hours and he hand't had any sleep. He needed sleep.
"Damn it," he mumbled, stubbing his toe on something as he searched through a nearby pile of clothes for his suit. He found it, not too dirty or wrinkled, and slid himself into it. Then he was asleep. His suit wasn't the most comfortable pajamas, but at least he'd be ready. He slept deeply, snores echoing through the two room apartment, slipping into Brit's dreams. Night faded around them.
Short sharp screeches burrowed into Randy's tranquility. His hand jerked reflexively turning off the alarm. Silence consumed the air. Randy opened his eyes, still tired and suddenly uneasy. He didn't hear Brit's breathing. Slowly, as if one wrong move would prove his fear true, he pulled back the cover and slipped his feet into his shoes. Each footstep was an earthquake, each heartbeat an explosion in his ears. He was in the doorway. Brit still lie on the sofa. He couldn't see if she was breathing. His heart stopped. Time stood still. Then Brit gasped for air, her face flushed and exhausted. Randy ran to her side, leaned over her, and smiled, nearly crying with relief. Brit coughed and specks of blood splattered on her shirt.
"Thank God," Randy whispered and left for work, the door creaking behind him. Brit's eyes fluttered open, huge dilated pupils exposed.
"Randy?" her hoarse voice purred. Painfully, she turned her head, bones cracking as she did. She pushed herself onto her elbows and glanced into the other room. He wasn't there. Brit frowned and began to sigh, but a cough caught her and more blood stained her clothes. Her whole body ached as she got to her feet. She dragged herself to the doorway and clung to it for balance. She saw the unmade bed and "Teddy's" red boxers. Another coughing seizure. She pulled herself to the chest of drawers up against the only window. In the top drawer, she found what she was looking for. A bright pink pill that stuck in her swollen throat when she swallowed it, but soon disolved. "I'll feel better in no time," she thought.

I know it's not a finished product by any means, and this part might be a little bit confusing, but really, the whole first part is. The audience I was going for was young adult, who might relate with revolting against the government and sympathize with the young adult characters. Now some questions for you.
Did you find this section confusing? If so, was it just because it was out of context or because of the wording?
Did you find it interesting? Was the part when Brit was possibly dead exciting?
Do you like the characters? Would you want to read the rest of this book?
Please add any comments you want, just don't be too mean.