8

Addicted

Many people say drugs are bad, and some people think they're good, well one man in particular believes with the some. Michael Mills, twenty years of age has been doing drugs since he was seventeen. His family never understood why he did them, or what got him hooked on them, they just knew he needed to stop. Before Michael had gotten addicted to the drugs, he had lived what people would call the perfect life. He was his schools star quarterback, had the cheerleader girlfriend, got straight A's, had got a scholarship to UCLA his junior year and his family had money. But the last few months of his senior year had changed all that.

Michael was sitting outside in his car waiting for Tiffany, his girlfriend, to get off of cheer practice. Even though it was the end of the year, Tustin High's cheer team still practiced for their summer camp they attended a week after school got out. So there Michael sat, humming and drumming his fingers on the car steering wheel waiting for Tiffany when a light knock came on the window.

"Hey." Mike said to his friend Greg as he rolled down his car window.

"What are you still doing here?" Greg asked glancing around the parking lot, which was empty.

"Eh, you know, just waiting for Tiff to get out, you?

"Just meeting a friend, can I get in?"

"Yeah sure" Mike rolled his window back up and reached over to the passenger seat unlocking the door. "Keep the window up though; it is so damn hot out there."

"I hear ya" Greg replied shutting the car door shut. "So, anyway, the reason I came to talk, I got a question."

"Shoot."

"Ever smoke?"

"Eh, I've done it a few times, I'm not too fond of the cigs though, they make my breath stink, Tiff doesn't like it, and so I've stopped."

"No man, no. I'm talking about something better then cigs, something useful, which takes you to your happy place, where you can just forget about the world for a moment, not worry about a thing."

"You talking about marijuana?" Michael asked arching his eyebrow as he glanced at Greg.

"Well, there is other stuff that will do that, but ya man, I am." Greg smiled as he said this and reaching into his pant pocket pulling out a small bag full of marijuana. "Wanna smoke? I won't charge ya or anything, totally free, best stuff there is around here."

"I don't know." Michael answered glancing around. "I've done it once, at Hannah's party last month, I guess. I won't be taking any physicals this next month. This stuff will be out of my system by August right?"

"Ya man, ya." Greg replied as he pulled another object out of his pocket passing it to Michael. It was that moment which would change everything.

"That's how it started. The first time at the party, it was nothing, but I don't know, when me and Greg did it, it was better, way better." Michael said shaking his head as he placed his hands into his lap. All around him sat other drug addicts, trying to get over their addictions that started years or months ago. "I never told anyone I got into the harder stuff, not even Greg. That started when I went to UCLA." He only smoked marijuana every so often, not all the time. When Michael was in his freshman year at UCLA he didn't really learn about all the harder stuff, not until his new best friend, and roommate introduced him to them one night out at a club. "I never realized I was this bad, not until Tiffany said something."

It had hit Michael hard when Tiffany said something a few months back. The two had been going out for three years before she dumped him. He was entering his sophomore year at UCLA and she would be joining him as well as a freshman, but when she had walked into his dorm to find him with a bag of cocaine, that all changed. The incident irrupted into a huge argument that could be heard down on the second floor, Michael's dorm being on the third.

"What the hell is this?" Tiffany had asked pointing at the white substance on Michael's desk. "Are you that stupid? Please tell me that is not what I think it is."

"It's not mine! I swear!" Michael frantically jumped out of his chair, his eyes red with heavy bags under them from lack of sleep.

"You're lying. I'm not stupid Mike, I've heard the rumors, I never wanted them to be true, they all said it over and over; 'I saw Mike the other night at a party, he was doing some hard stuff. Not alcohol either, drugs.' I refused to believe it, I figured it was just your roommate, not you, I thought I knew you."

"You do know me, it's not mine."

"Then why is it on your desk Mike? You're holding it for someone? C'mon, I know it's yours, don't try and act like it's not, you're lying, I can tell." Tiffany pointed at Mike's hand. "You always shift your eyes when you lie, or it could just be the drugs doing it to you."

"Babe..."

"No Mike. You know how I feel about cigarettes; did you think this would be different? This is worse, way worse. How long Mike, how long?"

"Since I've been here." Mike replied sitting down in his seat.

"Two years? You've been hiding this for two years?" Tiffany was screaming at this point, her body shaking. She couldn't believe what was happening. Her boyfriend, her love, her fiancée was addicted to drugs. "You need to choose. I can't be with someone who's into drugs, I just can't."

"You're making me decide?" Mike jumped back up out of his seat, part of him angry at himself for getting this bad, part of him angry at Tiffany for making him choose.

"You just did." She said removing the ring Mike had given her for their two and a half year anniversary dropping it off on his bed as she walked out of his dorm.

"It was hard for me." Michael said glancing up at the people around him. "When Tiffany walked out the door, I knew there was no use in chasing her. You see, her brother had been into drugs and died cause of them, that's why she hated them so much. Cigarettes too, she figured that if you started smoking them, you'd eventually want to try and smoke other stuff too." Michael sighed. This was a difficult thing for him to talk about. Anything was really difficult for him to talk about, especially when it was about his past. Although it had been half a year since his and Tiffany's arguments, Michael didn't start really trying to get of the drugs until Tiffany had told his mom. That was when he decided he should try and get some help.

"I had gone about three days without sleep, maybe two; I hadn't had a fix since the night before." Michael continued. "If I had gone after her, I probably would've done something stupid. See, when I went about two days without something I found out I got cranky. I knew people got angry when they didn't have their fix, I told myself I wouldn't let that happen to me, but eventually, the drugs took over." Sighing Michael stood up, wanting to leave. He couldn't take sitting here anymore, he needed something, something he knew he couldn't have, but he had to have it.

"It's okay Michael, we all went through it." Said Mitch, the counselor of the program Michael was in. "Don't give up now." His hand rested on Mike's shoulder, as if to tell him to sit back down, which he did,

"It's been hard, trying to refrain from going back to them; I didn't realize I would get addicted so easily. It was just marijuana." It really was. Michael didn't know how it happened really, he had tried explaining this to his mom a few months back, but it didn't go over too well, not after he got kicked out of UCLA. When Michael had came home during Christmas break Michael had received a letter while he was visiting his family. It had stated he was being kicked out of the school and was only able to return to gather his belongings. His mom had gotten the letter before he was able to, when she questioned him, he couldn't lie to her, not his mother. He had seen what happened when he tried to lie to Tiffany, she saw right through him and she knew him best. Of course his mom, if Tiffany could see he was lying, would soon figure out her son was lying straight to her face, so he came out, spilled it all. Not even five minutes after Michael had told his mom she threw him out of the house, packed up his things, and threw it out into the streets.

"They all said they were done with me, not to come back until I was fully off the drugs. No one returned my phone calls, then again, they couldn't. I had spent most of my money on the drugs after that. I had five-hundred in my bank, and in a week it was gone, all of it. I moved from home to home, staying with a few friends, or, well, I thought they were my friends, from UCLA. I crashed at their pad for a night, and then took off the next. This went on for at least a month or so then one night I ran into Tiffany. She wasn't seeing anyone, so it gave me hope, but when she saw me, the look in her eyes, I saw, I felt her pain. We talked for a bit, I could tell she was uncomfortable with sitting near me, she kept fidgeting, but she was talking to me, it was a step for us." Michael glanced up at the group; they all knew what he was going through.

"She said she loved me, that she couldn't stop thinking or worrying about me. Tiff really took the drug thing hard. She said she didn't want to see me like her brother, she wanted to help me. Her parents had tried taking her brother to a group, but he couldn't stay in it for more then a few days before running off. 'Mike, I love you, let me help you,' it was the last thing she said to me, and then she had to go. Those words; I love you, they kept repeating in my head that night. I just sat there, I didn't go to a friends, didn't go anywhere that night, just sat on the bench repeating those three words in my head. She still loved me, after all that, she still loved me. I knew, right then, I had to do something."

Michael had spent that night in the park; it was a change for him, one of the only nights those past months since he had gotten kicked out of his house he had gone without drugs. Tiffany had really gotten to him. She was the only person he could ever turn to, it was devastating when she left him in his dorm the night of their argument, and it was devastating to see her that night.

The next morning, when Michael woke up, he went to the payphone to call Tiffany, he needed her, he needed her bad. Later on during the day, Michael met up with Tiffany at a local diner. He asked for her help, to get off the drugs, to get back on track. Michael wanted her back in his life.

"She took me to her parents. I was surprised she did so, because they hated druggies more then she did, but when they saw the look in her eyes, and how bad I looked, they knew what to do. I was driven here immediately, after I showered and ate some lunch. It's been hard, no lie. Everyday I wish I could get my fix, I lay down in bed, craving, it, wanting it, but I glance over at Tiffany's picture and think to myself; No Mike, do it for her, don't let her down."

It's been two years sine Michael was sitting with his group in rehab. Two long years, but he does it. Michael and Tiffany got engaged, again, and she's been helping him with his struggle. His parents never really forgave him for what he had done; they felt that he had put a shame to the family name. Eventually though, Michael went back to school, he didn't play football again, he gave up his dream to become a professional football player, but he went onto a better, bigger thing. Michael goes from rehab, to rehab speaking to those that are going through what he did. Don't give up, if you have someone who loves you, ask them to help, to guide you, put you back on track. Trust me, it always works. Michael repeats those words to every group, because he believes it is true, that if you have the help and support from a loved one, you can do it, you can kick the drugs to the curb.