****Just a warning this story will be very dark with some humor and romance. it deals heavily with drug abuse and addiction. Later themes include Rape Molestation and other things I'll let you know about throughout the story. Thanks for reading this story comes from a place of experience with my own battles with drugs. Hope you enjoy. Also I'm from Philly so if there's any slang or drug terminology you don't understand feel free to ask. I don't bite =]

You see her.

That girl.

Radiating amidst the party.

Gorgeous long, dark hair, caramel skin. She smiles. Though you can tell it's not real. Her eyes reveal the cracks in her soul every time her lips curve upward. You find yourself subconsciously getting closer. Intrigued. You know this kind of girl. Happy and gorgeous on the outside, but through her eyes and mannerisms, you see the turmoil that lies beneath the walls she puts up. More like a fortress complete with a mote and alligators.

A couple feet away you make eye contact. Everything stills and it's like looking at an animal you've never seen before and then wondering how you never knew about it before. She smiles a genuine smile. You notice a dimple on the left side of her cheek. Sold. Done. Over. You're captivated. You know its a bad idea to get involved with this sort of girl but you're sort of a masochist so you follow when she takes your hand and leads you into what seems to be an office. Whose house is this anyway?

What you don't expect is the bundle of heroin she pulls out of her bra and sets on the desk. She smiles up at you, as to ask, "you down?" Hell yea you're down. Pulling another chair up to the desk you realize the stamp on the square blue wax paper bag. Tom and Jerry. Your absolute favorite kind. You wonder if she goes to the same block in Kensington that you do.

She opens a drawer and pulls out a large square mirror, a gift card to JC penny, and a neon pink straw.

"i love JC Penney" is the first thing you say to her. She smiles such a huge smile that her perfect white teeth show and her eyes squint a bit. You feel like you need to see that smile again because it did something weird to you and you'd like to feel it again to try to gauge what the hell that was.

"Good there's about 300 on here let's go shopping tomorrow" she said

"I don't have any money."

"That's what the card's for silly. I wanna share, and I wanna share with you. Just like this dope here. Now let's party shall we?"

All you could do was nod. Nod and snort the huge line she laid out for you. Holy shit you love dope. Doing heroin, it's like finding true love every time.

After about three hours you have gone through at least 6 bags each. Leaving 2 more out of the bundle.

She picks the two bags up and hands them to you, leaving her fingers to linger on your palm a little longer than normal. She captivates you in so many ways. You give her a bewildered look as to why she placed the bags in your hand.

"So you don't have to worry about being dope sick tomorrow". She smiles that damn smile again and you can't help but smile back.

You try to shove them back in her hand but she resists.

"I can't take this from you it's your last two and plus you already let me do all the other bags and you're taking me shopping. I can't you've been too nice already. I don't want to take advantage of you like that cuz I barely know you and-"

She cuts you off by placing her hand on your forearm. Damn you were rambling, how embarrassing.

"You're cute. And don't worry about it there's plenty more where that came from….I kinda make it" she said sheepishly ducking her head down.

"Wow you make my favorite bags they are the shit you must be some sort of heroin magician" You laughed, cuz what are the fuckin chances?

"Thanks it took a couple years of perfecting. One life was my first and then it went on from there. Now I have buyers all through Kensington and some of Camden."

"Wow. How did you learn, is it hard?"

"That's a story for another time sweets, oh by the way I'm Santana"

You snort another line before extending your hand.

"Brittany"

"Nice to meet you Britt Britt. That's one of my favorite names. Shows innocence on the outside, but inside you're a wild girl. I love wild girls" She says with a wink.

Bad news. Bad news. Bad news. You keep telling yourself but your heart is winning the battle and you find yourself blushing embarrassingly turning as red as Santana's dress…ohhh that dress. Those curves. Those eyes. Oh shit she caught you staring.

"You're cute" she says with a smile and when you see that damn dimple you're done for.

"Huh uh thanks. Y-your cute too" face palm. Smooth Brittany, smooth.

Santana then licks her finger slowly and wipes off the remaining residue off of the mirror. She slowly brings her finger to her lips and sucks the remaining power off while looking you dead in the eye. You swear you died for a second. She smiles again, that damn smile, and you can't help but smile back. The biggest, dorkiest, smile in your arsenal. It would be embarrassing really if the same smile wasn't being reciprocated back with equal force.

"Here put your number in my phone so we can go shopping tomorrow"

You happily take the phone wanting so much to see this girl again. She's so mysterious yet feisty at the same time. You need to know this girl. You want to know about every scraped knee, heartbreak, and family life. But most of all you want to know what makes this girl so guarded and broken inside. Never before have u been able to have a conversation with just a simple look with someone until her. She sees into me, and u see into her so clearly it's frightening.

You give her the phone back with a grin.

"Where's your phone so I can put my number in yours?"

"Oh shit sorry, here"

With a giggle she entered the number and hands the phone back to you.

"I'll see you around 3 tomorrow is that cool?"

"y-yea t-three's fine"

She get up close for a hug and whispers "so damn cute"

And with that she sways her hips to the door and before opening it looks over her shoulder and throws you a wink. Then you're left alone in some random office with two bags of the best heroin in the city and the person who make's it's number in your phone. Not to mention the shopping spree she's taking you on tomorrow. You know she's trouble. But you love trouble after all. If you didn't you wouldn't be a heroin addict living in the city with 5 junkies in a house with bars on the windows and surrounding the front porch. You walk the streets of Kensington, Philadelphia, the Bad Lands they call it, alone searching for a fix even though you know there's a rapist out there named solely after this very city.

But you don't care. You don't give a fuck. You haven't for a while now. Not since well, you know, fuck that you're not gonna think about that right now.

You put the bags in the pocket of your skinny jeans making sure they're secure you go thru your checklist before leaving. Cigarettes, cell phone, wallet, keys, lighter. You've been doing this your whole life. Except the items to check have changed over the years.

You exit the room and decide it's time to get going home. Plus u have a big day tomorrow and with all the dope you just did your gonna be dipping off for a while, putting even more burn holes in your comforter. "Tomorrow I step into the unknown" you say to yourself before putting your key in the door and are greeted by the usual bodies lying around the smell of stale booze and weed permeating the air.

Empty bags and syringes laying on the make shift coffee table made of wooden crates and a large mirror sitting on top…. the ultimate place to get high. You don't shoot. Never wanted to. I mean you thought about it watching how deep some of your IV user friends dipped out of consciousness. But then you noticed how fast it was over and how much dope was used for just one shot. No thank you…you like to get the most of your shit.

You go upstairs and open the door to your room. Which really is like a closet with a single mattress in the corner, an end table with a lamp and several duffle bags lining the walls. This is all you own. That and the drugs in your pocket. You get undressed leaving only your panties on and find a big t-shirt that says legalize it on it and put it on. Sitting on the bed you lay out a bedtime line for good measure… You think of her. Santana. As the sweet, sweet powder shoots up Your nose and gives u that rush you crave. Awaiting the bitter but welcomed drip down your throat. You sit on the bed and light up a cig. Of course you start nodding off immediately. Santana makes some good shit. Before you burn another hole into your comforter you put the cig out in an old coke can. Turning off the light and getting as comfy as you can on this mystery mattress you found. You think of her. Santana, Santana, Santana. You could get hurt. But for some reason this time you're willing to take the risk. You'd give anything to make her smile again, because honestly you could give two shits about yourself.

…

Brittany wakes up to screaming from somewhere in the house. She slowly walks into the hallway and peeks downstairs to see a muscular man with a mowhawk wielding a metal baseball bat screaming at her friend mike.

"You better get me my fuckin money you damn junkie or Lopez herself will come down here and hurt you so bad, that you'd wish you woulda sucked cocks to get the money."

He flinches like he might strike. But pulls back and laughs when he sees the cowering posture of Mike.

"I'm sorry ok. I'll get you the money just give me some more time"

puck throws a baggie at him and sneers.

"Motivation to get your ass going. A dope sick fiend is useless."

And with that he left without another word. And all Brittany could think was who the hell is this lopez chick. And then she walks down the steps as Mike's preparing a syringe and notices the stamp on the wax paper bag.

Tom and Jerry.