A/N: This was done for a project I have... The project was on drugs, and I wrote this... Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: This is NOT based on true events. It is merely a FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION.
A cold, dark evening:
It was a cold, dark evening, and a young boy- though he was hardly young, he was at least eighteen - was returning home from college. He was depressed, disillusioned, and unbeknownst to anybody, including himself, in danger.
It had all started one day after college, just before he caught the bus home. One of his friends told him about a wonderful new drug that made you feel absolutely amazing- on top of the world- and without any side effects. The boy had been slightly suspicious at first, but how could his friend be wrong? And besides, of late his life had been tough. His parents were always busy with their work, spending no time with him. He was new in college, and he wanted to 'fit it'. His friend had introduced him to a drug dealer close to their college, and that was how it began.
The boy continued on his way down the street. It was two month since he had taken up drugs, and things only seemed to be getting worse. His academic performance had come down drastically, and he had stopped playing his favourite sports. He hung around a group of people who had a reputation of being alcoholics and drug addicts. And he found that he had absolutely no control over his habits. He carried on walking, but his feet- yet again- led him down that dark, smelly alley. The one that led him to his desire. He passed some boys from his college- he could tell by the uniform- who were passed out on the road, drunk. He didn't spare them a second glance.
He splashed through puddles of dirty water and ignored the trashcans with garbage strewn all around them. As he made his way down the street, he tried to think why he was doing this. He knew that drugs were bad. They poisoned you. He had tried to stop himself- but it just seemed impossible. He couldn't. In the beginning it had been fine. He took drugs that gave him a high just before parties or simply when he felt depressed... But now? Now he was out of control. How had he lived life before these drugs? How had he survived? He passed another boy – younger this time, not older than fourteen, smoking a cigarette and gazing at him as he passed by.
He finally reached the dealer. An old man, with a hood over his face, and dressed in shabby black clothes who obviously didn't take drugs himself, but seemed to get some sick pleasure out of making money by means of people's vulnerability . The man smiled sinisterly as he handed the boy the packet and, in turn, pocketed the money – money that had, that morning been stolen from the boy's parents. No words were exchanged as the boy made his way back up the alley, this time, on his way home. He had one packet- enough to last him a week. And then he would be back for more.
The boy put his packet under his overcoat before he hit the main road. He walked on the grey pavement, surrounded by grey buildings, under the grey sky. A small grey figure, who had in his overcoat, a packet with a small amount of grey powder. Powder that had the insane ability to destroy a helpless person's life forever.
The figure hurried down the road as it started to rain.
Review, please.