I’ll Try Heroin Once, I said, but it Turned Into an 18-year Addiction

The language in this article may trigger anyone who has ever struggled with opiates. Sitting at the back of the bus, I’m both excited and afraid. Am I going to die from a heroin overdose? Or am I going to have the best night of my life? I was the one who insisted we should try heroin, so I can’t back out now. As we joked around on the bus — five skinny teenagers — we tried to hide the fact that we were all scared shitless. We talked about everything except what we were about to do, but every now and then it crept into conversation, and the mood shifted from jovial to a dark silence. We were on our way to meet my friend Cian. He had done it many times before, so all we had to do was go with the flow. When we arrived at his house, he invited us in. The furniture in his sitting room reminded me of my nan’s house — good quality, but it had seen its fair share of visitors. There was a nervous, giddy atmosphere in the room. Cian didn’t waste any time. He walked into the kitchen and came back with a roll of aluminium foil, a pair of scissors, and some toilet paper. Then he took five bags of heroin from his pocket and placed them on the glass table. They were tiny — less than an eighth of a gram each. That’s about the size of the letter ‘O’ on a normal-sized keyboard. He unrolled the foil, tore off a piece about ten inches wide, and shaped it into a neat square. He then scorched every inch of the foil with a lighter. It went black, but he quickly wiped off the residue to leave a beautiful silver sheen. He tore off another piece of foil and rolled it into the shape of a straw. He called this a tooter, and the square piece of foil he called a tray. <a href="https://brianpennie.medium.com/ill-heroin-once-i-said-but-it-turned-into-an-18-year-addiction-b0b463c016fa">Click Here</a>