My life went from wonderful to awful in about two short weeks. Sometimes I wished that I was a normal person, whose dad had a normal job. Even better, I wished my dad was still alive so that he could deal with all of this. Now I know why my dad would always have a drink when he got home. If he got home. I wasn't exactly proud of what I was about to do, but I couldn't help it. My skin was itching and tingling with the need to shoot up or cut a line. I felt it in my bones. So, when I got my new phone, pretty much the first thing I did was call up my old dealer. I was on the way back to my dorm now, the little baggie of coke and heroin burning a hole in my pocket. My heart was pounding in my chest from pure excitement and a little bit of terror. I opened the door to my room and closed it behind me. I let out a long, nervous sigh before grabbing my old handheld mirror, razor, and cut off straw. I pulled out the little baggie and dumped some of the coke onto the mirror, using the razor to cut it up into three thick lines. I licked my lips excitedly as I brought the straw to my nose, snorting the three lines quickly. I closed my eyes as I felt the thick white stuff going down my throat, an immediate sense of euphoria washing over me.
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