A bag and a straw.

I remember feeling anxious but full of curiosity at the age of 17. This is when I was introduced to the devil, the high was not similar or as mild as caffeine.

Have you ever been told how fantastic the first hit feels? your bloodstream screaming with dopamine, nasal cavity on fire, the skin inside beginning to peel .

Hiding in the bathroom, taps running in the hopes to not arouse suspicion. This is to hide the sounds of me preparing my tasty chemical remedy with precision.

I reach for the well-used cardboard straw; straw knows the role he plays. I inhale through one nostril, with one deep breath the powder penetrates and invades my throat in a fiery blaze.

Clearing my throat and wiping my nose with the back of my hand, Licking and polishing the remaining from my bank card. I push up from kneeling on the bathroom floor and stand.

Rehab wasn’t designed for me, admitting I was one of them wasn’t part of the plan. Suicide attempts explored, and paranoia soared through my beaten brain, the addiction has just begun.