TRIGGER WARNING - DRUGS (HEROIN, LSD, ETC)

The needle in my vein was too good to pass up. I couldn't just escape that lifestyle, ya know? It was all I knew, now. I couldn't leave it all behind. I had to, though. One near-death experience and I had her all worried. She wouldn't let me leave on the streets anymore. I guess, I understand that - I had to quit, which to be honest, I didn't know if that was possible at this point. I'd lived up to this… image. I was into it, I loved it. I don't know how the fuck it started. I really… I did. All this pain, ya know? I just wanted out, I needed a way out.

That's what smack was. A way out. Originally, I ran away because I felt out of place. I was the first born. Of two. Me and Sara - I was the first born, then her. I felt like I had to live up to her, I felt like they were my mother's standards. Sara was an honor student, always made honor roll. Had a job, had her license. All by 16. The year I left. I remember the day like it was yesterday, though I don't remember much.

I was so irritated that day. I was so pissed off. Sara had come home to my mom and me arguing. I was sitting on the couch, my stuff was already packed and in my room. I'd already purchased my bus ticket to Vancouver. I stole money from Sara. I stole around $200 all together. My mom was telling me to be more like Sara, she was always telling me that. I scoffed, "Sod off." I spat and walked to my room, slamming my door. I went away, writing the goodbye letter. Sara had knocked on my door. I opened it slowly, just a crack and eyed the girl up and down. She was donned in her pajama's, already and her hair was up in a high ponytail. Back then, I'd deny finding her attractive. The smack has helped me admit and accept that I want to fuck her, and that I always have. Sara told me to stop upsetting Mom. That's when I went mad. I slammed the door in her face, "Cunt!" I screamed and kicked the door.

I didn't leave until that morning. It was Sunday and I had refused to go to church. I was out the door and at the bus station and down in Vancouver, faster than I had wanted. As soon as I was out in Vancouver, I met a few squatters. They let me stay with them and I had slept with the main girl there. She was supposed to be like my mom but I liked her. She had short black hair and she wore punk-type clothes. I was her girlfriend-ish, until we threw this big party. I had left them for the smack crowd. I met Lillith.

She had bright purple hair that was shaved about an inch long. She had glittery eyebrows, her tongue, septum and dimples pierced. She always worn raccoon like make up and I liked her, more than the mom. I liked her because she was nice. She was free, she was happy. First off, she was European. I want to say she was British, but I don't exactly remember. She was pretty and beautiful and I wanted her.

I knew Lillith was on something, I just didn't know what, I wasn't into anything besides Hash. Anyways, I was with Lillith for two years before we started hooking to get money for drugs. I was addicted, I could say. I had been arrested for prostituting and possession of drugs. I had been clean and I was going to get a job and get an apartment. No luck with that.

It was just this past week, Monday. I had overdosed on heroin and nearly died. That's when Sara contacted me. Now, 22 years old and off to live with my twin sister in Montreal, Quebec. I wasn't excited. Not at all. I knew no one, there. She'd moved so far away. I wouldn't know where to get dope, but that was the point, right?

Getting off the airplane. I was sick, so sick. I had vomited nearly three times and I just wanted to shoot up more than anything. Smack would make me feel better, I needed some dope was all. Sara was waiting for me, she had long hair still. I'd cut all mine off. It was beginning to fall out from the Tina that I occasionally used. As soon as my hair started falling off, I quit the Tina all together and just used more heroin.

Sara's hair was pulled into a ponytail and she had a bright red peacoat on. I smiled, shyly and walked up to her. "Shall we get your bags then?" Sara said after we'd embraced. I nodded, toying with my septum pincher. Sara grabbed my hand and we walked to the baggage claim. I pulled my hand away, "I'm a drug addict, not six years old, Sara." I spat and walked to the appropriate, baggage belts. I picked up my suitcase. "That's all you have?" Sara asked. I chuckled, "I was homeless, Sara. I'm wearing one of the two outfits I have." I felt dirty being in her presence and I'm sure she was disgusted with me. She was so clean and I hadn't showered since I left the hospital. I was thinking about dope, though. When was I not.

"You've got any Xanax, yeah?" I ask Sara as we begin driving. "We need to go shopping." She says, looking towards me. "Maybe you oughta shower first." The air is thick in Sara's car and I roll down the windows. Sara's never dealt with an addict. Once
Sara stops at the light, I open the door and vomit again. Sara is absolutely freaking out, asking if I'm okay. I shake my head and asks if I'm to be emitted to the hospital. I shake my head, "I need heroin or Xanax or methadone." I sigh, heavily. My whole body is shaking and Sara pulls out a bottle of pills and hands them to me. They're labeled to me, "Bupe?" I ask. Sara nods, "Your doctor sent them. He said to take one every eight hours." I take one quickly and Sara hands me a water bottle.

Once we get to her house, Sara takes my suitcase to the laundry room. I haven't got much in there. An outfit and a pair of shoes. Also, some lyrics. Sara advises for me to take a bath. Her apartment is huge, elegant and damn sexy. I get in the bath and Sara knocks on the door. "Yeah?" I call out. "Can I uh, join?" Sara asks. I nod, remembering she can't see me. "Sure." Sara steps in and I don't mention anything about wanting her. She drops her clothes and gets in with me. "You're rich." I say. She laughs. "I'm a lawyer." I giggle, and I want to kiss her. She's so beautiful. She's taken her hair out and it's fallen down, beside her face and frames it, gracefully. "You're beautiful." I tell her. "Thanks, Tegan." I grin and lean into her. She wraps her arms around me and it feels good, because I'm not high and the Bupe's worked fast. I look at her.

"What did I do wrong?" She asks, scrubbing shampoo through my black hair. I sigh, "You were perfect, Sar." I fucked up, I realized.