Fight Off Your Demons
If you want me to be honest, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I've hit some serious writer's block ALL around and I figured since I've only been doing better with my battle with drug abuse, that I would post a story about it. This subject is very near and dear to me, so much that the beginning of the story is entirely based off of what I went through. The second part, not so much; it will all be partially made up from there.

Enjoy, my dear readers. I'm not in this for the satisfaction of reviews (though they are nice, that is not the point), I'm in this because this was my life. A life full of relapses and regrets.

This one... it's not only for you, but it's for me.

3 Years Earlier; January 1, 2009.

Santana sat in her bedroom, swaying back and forth from the amount of drugs currently flowing through her bloodstream, as she finished forming the 8-ball of cocaine that she had into lines. She rubs her hooded and bloodshot eyes and she brings the rolled up dollar to the tray and starts snorting line by line. She needed this, she needed to be numb. 2007 and 2008 hadn't been very kind to her; this was her escape. She needed to find a way out of reality, and this was the perfect opportunity to get away; to forget about what had happened.

Santana had always been the kind of person to run away from her problems, instead of facing them. She had been battling with this drug addiction for the last two years and it was all because she couldn't handle feelings. Aside from being in the psychiatric ward for three days because of an attempted suicide in December of 2007, Santana had spent every single day doing blow. Two of her closest friends were gone. One from an accidental gunshot wound to the head, and one to an overdose. You'd think she would have learned then and there that drugs were bad, but his overdose just made her fall deeper into its pit.

She wishes she had found a better outlet. This wasn't the first thing on her list, but she was always a poor decision maker. She tried other ways; self-harm, punching holes in the wall, drinking heavily… Okay, so maybe her other ways weren't the best, either, but they were a lot better than the one she got stuck on.

As the drug continued to course through her blood, Santana laid down on her bed and thought. She hated thinking, but once the cocaine kicked in she knew it would all be over and her mind would remain blank. Closing her eyes, Santana started feeling the effects of the second 8-ball that she had just done settle in and she smiled, broken and numb.

When Santana had awoke, she had no idea where the fuck she was. The walls were white; her eyes were burning from the light reflecting off of them. As she was coming to, she finally figured it out. She was in the hospital. Santana looks to her left to see an IV stuck in her hand. She wanted so bad to just yank it out and get the fuck out of the confined room, but with tubes in her nasal cavity that helped her breathe, she figured she wasn't going anywhere.

XXXXXXX

What the fuck is going on? She thought as she lay there motionless. The beeping of the machines were irritating the hell out of her and she had no idea why she was even here. She found the 'assistance' button on the side of her hospital bed and pressed it. She wanted answers. It's not like she had done something she hadn't before. Santana was used to taking large amounts of the white substance, so why would this time be any different? She wanted to know what the fuck she did to land herself in this hell hole.

A nurse walks in with a clipboard and a chart, completely shocked that the Latina is wide awake and staring at her.

"Miss Lopez…" The nurse starts, "I thought that your mother had pressed this button. You're awake! I need to go inform the doctor."

"Wait!" Santana calls out as the nurse starts to leave the room. "Why the hell am I even in here?"

"Well, because, Miss Lopez… You were in a 14 hour drug induced coma. Your mother brought you in, you were unconscious and she was very concerned. With how much cocaine we found in your system, we honestly didn't expect you to make it." The nurse says sadly.

A fucking COMA? Shit, it's time to make a change.

Present Day

Santana was making her way through the hallway of the community center. She had just finished up her meeting with a support group for teenagers who were/are addicted to drugs. Santana felt better than ever since she had found the ground, sporting her "3rd year sober" keychain on her keys. This group had given her a reason to kick the addiction, to be a better person. They taught her that feelings were okay and the best way to deal with them was not to run from them, but face them. They helped her through the deaths of her friends, helped her grow from the tragedy that had ensued in her life. These guys were seriously the best, and Santana would be so lost without them.

Santana knew that if it weren't for her overdose at the age of 16 and this support group, she would either be dead or on the streets. She silently thanks God that this didn't happen to her, because when she looks at all of the people who are in her old shoes, it forms a pit in her stomach. That COULD be her, but it's not... It's not because she grew up and made a change. She faced all of the inconsistencies and hardships in her life and she grew from that. She only wished that she could help everyone she sees who struggles with drug abuse, but she knows she can't play God. If only that were possible.

Santana exits the building and starts to walk back towards her dorm room. She was lucky to have found a group so close to campus, and she was thankful that she rose from the ashes and got her game together so that she could go to college. She really knows that she wouldn't be here if she had still been doing drugs, and she was better off, now.

As Santana passes the building before hers, she notices something off. She sees a girl, sitting against the building, knees brought up to her chest. Santana is all too familiar with the sight she is faced with; the shaking hands, the pale skin, the sunken and bloodshot eyes, the trembling body even though it was almost summer… Santana wanted to help the poor girl, but she knows damn well that fighting off your demons was something that you had to do yourself. She only hoped that this girl would fight hers in time.

So, I'm trying to get the update for The Better Side Of Me out, but God, I kind of lost my way. I've been trying my hardest to write the story for you guys because you mean so much to me, but it's proving hard right now.

I think I just needed to get this out and hopefully, I can get my creative spark back. Probably not, but you never know until you try. I shall keep all of you posted, I promise.