“A thin long line of white. My friends cheering me on, telling me that one little sniff wouldn’t hurt. That’s how it all began. And, oh boy, were my friends wrong.
After that day, I started craving for that white sugary little bit of heaven, the white powder that would fill me up with ecstasy. At first, once a week was enough but soon I was craving for it every single day. I started flunking tests, my moods became erratic and unpredictable and I was in a constant state of paranoia.
Coke was an expensive habit which cut through my pocket money fairly quickly. This led me to begin stealing from my parents. But I think the worst part of all this was when I finally got caught. My parents opened the door to my room at 3am, to find me jumping on my bed, high as fuck while lines of coke littered my study table. Even in my tripped off state, I could see the intense disappointment in my dad’s eyes the moment that he found out that his son was a drug addict.”
David sat down as his tale came to an end. George looked intently at David as he finished his story. It had been nearly three weeks since he had been at the rehabilitation centre and his original reason for coming here was now becoming redundant.
Unlike the other people at the rehab, he had no intent to distance himself away from drugs. George had not gone there to rid himself of drugs, rather to give them to others. In rehabs, he saw an untapped gold mine. The people there were needy, desperate to get their hands on whatever they could find. George was a hopeless addict as well, heroin being his poison. However, the stories he had been hearing upon his arrival were beginning to have an effect on him.
There was a guy who lost his job for constantly coming to work high on meth, a woman who lost her child for being a xanax addict. Then there was a man who blew through his life savings on coke, a woman who had been hooked up on prescription pills, a teen who was there after seeing her best friend overdose on heroin.
These tales scared the hell out of George. He had always been told by everyone that drugs were harmful, that they would be the death of him. However he had always ignored them. But now, here were real life examples of their catastrophic effects right in front of him. How could he possibly ignore it now?
After David’s story, they all went back to their respective rooms. George usually took a dose of heroin before he went to sleep right about now. It helped him to sleep better. He went inside his room and began to set up his equipment.
He took out the brown powder and placed it carefully into the silver spoon. He flicked on his lighter and placed it underneath the spoon. He watched the slight bubbling of the water as it boiled away. George then gently teased the solution into the syringe. He tapped it gently a few times to make sure it was air tight before proceeding to inject it into his body.
However, just as he was about to do it, he recalled the teen who was here cause her friend had overdosed on the very same drug he was planning to intake at the very moment. He remembered Sarah, the girl who had choked to death on her own vomit. For a moment, he imagined her dead body mangled with puke. Horror and disgust filled up inside him and he threw the syringe away.
However, George’s body did not cope well with this. Years of habit had brought on a strong dependence. His mind was telling him not to, but his body craved for it. He began to hyperventilate, his eyelids twitched and he began to shiver — all the usual symptoms of heroin withdrawal.
Finally, he could bear the torture no more. He began to look for his thrown away syringe. He ran across the room, knocking things over in his frantic search. Eventually, George found it under his bed. With shaking hands, he slowly pushed it in, telling himself that just one more dose wouldn’t hurt him too much. He closed his eyes as waves of tranquility washed over him. Meanwhile, the master of puppets pulled yet another victim back into his grasp.