After that night my friends soon had me coming back for more everyday the urge for drugs became stronger until I couldn’t resist them. I was prepared to do anything to get drugs. I only had a limited amount of money and soon that ran out as I was eager to try new, harder and more effective drugs, these cost more than the drug that had started my desire. I realised that I couldn’t steal money from my parents because they would notice and if they found out about my habits they would be devastated because to them I was a template for the perfect daughter. Soon I started to sell things from my room to obtain the money for the drugs I noticed that each time I went to buy the drugs they became more expensive but that didn’t stop me I was dependant on them. At this point I realised that I was in fact addicted, I didn’t like to think of myself as a junkie because I wasn’t I was just a curious teenager experimenting, everyone does it, don’t they? Who was I kidding I was a junkie I was as bad the next person ‘experimenting’ I knew I was in trouble. It didn’t take long for my parents to notice that things in my room were going missing but I kept making excuses saying that people were borrowing them but they saw past the lies and deceit, not once did they question me as they were afraid of the truth.
My little business got worse soon the things that I was selling got bigger and more expensive, it started of with CD’s but soon turned to Discmans and jewellery this my parents became more aware of. Before long my parents had no choice but to ask me about it I decided that I had lied for long enough so I just came out with it “Ok,” I took I deep breath, “I’ve been selling my possessions to buy drugs,” I breathed I was so glad that the lies were over, astonished my parents replied with, “I get the point your fed up of us being nosy from now on we won’t ask questions sorry darling.” I couldn’t believe it they thought I was joking, they didn’t believe me I was distraught all I wanted to do was for them to know the truth. Another part of me was relieved because now I didn’t have to live with the disappointment and guilt they would cause.
The drugs got worse I now couldn’t live without dosing myself up for an hour things had to stop but I didn’t know how to stop the cravings. The worst of it wasn’t over, little did I know I was to endure not only cravings but soon the cravings would turn into withdrawal symptoms. During my lessons at university my skin would start to crawl, like a million ants were making their way up an ant hill reaching towards the opening, my mouth. I started screaming all I could see were ants crawling out of my mouth and back down my body and their was nothing I could do I needed something to ease the pain. My teacher was disturbed by my ear piercing screech and ran over o find out if I was alright I did what I seemed to be best at and lied making up a lame excuse. I skipped my next lesson to find a dealer I was willing to do anything to ease my nerves, I came across one that I had heard of but never had the pleasure or doing business with. She was the most repulsive creature I had ever seen, my eyes had been offended by this hideous and revolting being but I was desperate. She strutted past and people moved out of her way, she ruled the streets. Her stench trailed behind her leaving pedestrians in agony suffering on the floor. The streets were filled with the reek of cigarette smoke and the odour of vodka became too much for me but I was desperate. Her face was covered in a pathetic style, the make up merely painted on leaving her face as white as the ecstasy tablets she had evidently been taking. Her eyes black, black and evil, her red contacts reflected the flames of hell. The daughter of Satan had arrived. She grunted like a pig that was on the verge of being slaughtered and I could imagine the blood splattered on the wall and she was their using the blood as make up cackling away she was a witch of pure evil and her look was threatening. Somehow I needed to uncover the courage and strength to carry on and get what I needed; I slowly stumbled towards her thinking what to say and attempting to stay calm. She turned around and sharply said, “What do you want?” I couldn’t stay calm, “I need drugs,” I screamed desperately, “please you have to help me the feeling inside me it’s horrible,” I broke down in tears and she grabbed me and dragged me down an alleyway. I was frightened I just needed something to help me get through this pain I thought to myself, I sat in silence waiting. The silence was broken as she threateningly told me, “You make a scene in the streets like that again and I will see to it that you don’t live another day, now what do you want?” I wiped the tears from my eyes and took a deep breath, “I need something to calm my nerves I’m suffering from withdrawal symptoms and I need something, anything that’s strong and affective,” she handed me a minute box, inside this held the key to all my problems, carefully I opened the box and lying on a soft velvet bed was a white tablet. I knew that it was ecstasy and I had always refrained from using it as I knew the dangers it had but I was desperate, “How much?” I asked eagerly, “15 quid,” she replied knowing I would pay anything. I gave her the money and swallowed this jagged little pill knowing that as soon as in started swimming in my stomach I would be happy and all my troubles would feel like they had gone. I turned and walked away from her and in the distance I heard her shout, “Be careful who you can trust,” I knew that she wanted me to trust her and hoped that she would become my regular dealer.
I was relieved, finally I had something that eased my anxiety and I was saved. I returned to my university just in time for my lunch break and I was approached by my teacher, he was curious about the scene that I made in his lesson I told him that I had been experiencing difficulties in staying awake and that I had fallen to sleep and suffered a nightmare, at that he left. Soon the effect of the ecstasy had kicked in and vibrant colours flashed before my eyes, it was brilliant. Then things got worse the colours started to make me feel light-headed and at that I collapsed on the floor in a heap like a sack of potatoes. When I came around I was encircled by my friends that seemed to be worried about me, they knew that if I was caught that I would be kicked out but it was too late. The duty teacher had heard the commotion and was on their way over. I tried to lie I couldn’t get caught but she insisted that I went to see the nurse to make sure that I hadn’t hit my head and got concussion, “I’m fine,” I insisted, “I just tripped up that all.” The lies failed me once more and I was doomed. My teacher Mr Wessex had already expressed wishes to the nurse about my so called nightmare after my lesson so the nurse now adamant that I had a blood test just in case there was something wrong. I was told that teachers had notice my lack of concentration and abnormal behaviour and they were apparently getting worried.
By know I was petrified as I knew that my secret live was about to be revealed and my parents suspicions were now to be confirmed. I didn’t know that I would end up in here because of one mistake especially due to the fact that it wasn’t my fault. The nurse called my parents and told them that I had collapsed and that an ambulance was on its way to take me to the hospital for a blood test, all I remember from this is shaking and worrying about the consequences and outcome of my test. The ambulance arrived and I was hurried into it by Mr Wessex and the school nurse I was scared and Mr Wessex climbed into the vehicle, “Don’t worry,” he reassured me calmly, “I’m coming with you and your parents are meeting you there, everything will be alright.” That was easy for him to say it wasn’t his ambitions and all of the trust people had for him that was about to be obliterated. The ambulance slowly pulled into the emergency parking spaces at the hospital car park, in the distance I could see my parents hurriedly walking towards we with a look of anguish on their faces I could tell that they were worried. When they finally arrived we were led into the hospital by the ambulance paramedic the anxiety inside me had built up and the waiting was sheer torture.
I was eventually called into the treatment room by an obnoxiously nice nurse that spoke to me like I was a three year old girls about to go for a booster shot, my parents were asked to wait outside which to me was a relieve as this hospital had the unfortunate novelty of a machine that analysed the blood samples then and there in order to give a thorough analysis immediately. It was lucky day, not only were my parents going to find out about the drugs and my long life ambitions were ruined but it was all being revealed in the next five minutes I could hardly contain my excitement. The nurse came over to me with a syringe ready to stick it into my arm and withdraw my blood it was easy for her she had no idea she was about to ruin my life and I resented her for that but at the end of the day I partly had myself to blame. The tension was building up and the sample of blood was in the machine being analysed I was hoping that the sample would show no drugs but that was highly unlikely due to the quantity and range of them. The machine cycle stopped and the nurse printed out the data sheet, skimming over the information a startled look was brought upon her face and she looked at me in a disapproving manner over the top of her glasses, “I think you should remain were you are for a moment young lady I think your parents need to be aware of this situation.” I couldn’t stand people calling me young lady it made me feel like I was about ten years old. My mum and dad entered the room with a disturbed and disappointed look upon their faces and I felt dreadful. They looked at me as if I was some escaped convict or murderer and I resented them for that, they never said a word just glared. “Say something, please tell me that you’re disappointed in me, just say something. Tell me you hate me say anything,” I pleaded, but nothing was said at that they left. I turned to face the nurse looking for sympathy but all that I got was, “Do you know what happens now?” I shook my head unable to utter a word I was disgusted in my self. “Put it this way, your parents don’t want you back in the house until you are a changed person,” I stared at her with a confused look in my eye and all she could do was reply with, “Rehab but remember you have no one but yourself to blame.” She turned and walked away leaving me on my own I was ashamed and didn’t know how long I would be there for or when I was going all I knew was that I was alone and nobody wanted anything to do with me.
I have been in this place for a year now and should be getting out in six months time if all goes well. I have learnt one thing from this venture and that is be careful who you can trust. I found it hard to believe that my friends would do this to me and I was certain they would visit me to see how I was coping. They seemed so worried when I collapsed but then I realised that was because they were afraid of being found out, afraid that I would tell everyone that it was their fault I was here now. I wasn’t going to stoop to their level I know that when I leave this place that I will end up being better of anyway and then I will find some real friends ones that I can trust and more importantly ones that aren’t junkies.