[The Art of Storytelling]

I hadn't been exposed to drugs, didn't have a clue what being high was and little did I know shortly after I would fall madly in love.

I remember like it was yesterday, the day I met my supplier. Made it seem like we were friends, but he was just a really good liar.

My first year in college I heard about a really big shindig. I didn't have many friends, so I attended.

Everyone there seemed to be having a blast. I tried to talk to some people but they would just walk off and laugh. Trying so hard to fit in but no one paid me attention. I just sat by myself depressed and full of tension.

Then this dude came over and asked: What up son? Rule number one at any party is that you gotta have fun. I got the right thing for ya. Its a definite creeper. It goes by the name of marijuana but many call it reefer.

Oh yeah? I think I like the sound of that.

That's right, I know what attracts. I'll get you started with a dime bag, 1/8th sack or q pack. And just so you feel secure, I got another one you can pour. Courage in a bottle, that'll have you goin' full throttle. This one will hit you quicker and it goes by the name liquor.

I woke up the next day smiling about the previous night. There was a fine girl in my bed and don't remember getting into any sort of fights. Must have been the alcohol, cuz I know I had a ball. Taught me to be sociable and how to stand tall. And best believe the weed had my body sedated, mind stimulated and left me completely elated.

I built a rapport with my supplier over the next few weeks. I was smoking and drinking a lot so they started to become weak. One day I asked him if he had something new this time. He offered a white powder that he fashioned into a set of lines.

On your mark, get set, go. Let me introduce you to blow. One sniff of this and you'll feel like you're ruler of the globe.

Boy was he right, I felt fantastic. As soon as it hit me, my brain was doing gymnastics.

I cared less about studies letting them fall by the wayside. Instead my dealer became my professor, something more like a life guide.

It seemed like from that point on I was off to the races. Couldn't recall the names of the people I did drugs with and barely remembered their faces. We dropped acid, popped pills, and snorted so much coke. Then one day my dealer came by and showed me how to smoke crack and shoot dope.

These little rocks are like a high price whore. She'll do you so good, you'll be begging for more. Smoke them the same way you might toke on some grass. Spark them up with fire in a piece made of glass. And the heroin can be used just like the cocaine; through the nasal membranes. Or as most people prefer, injected directly into their veins.

From that point on, my mind was gone. I looked a wreck and couldn't keep my life in check. The only thing for which I gave a shit, was finding where I planned to get the next hit. There was no way I'd end the habit, even though I wanted so badly to quit.

I had dropped out of school and started acting a fool. Pawned everything I possessed in order to score and in the process ended up homeless and poor. I was too blind to see that so many people cared for me. Damn, I must've drove my family and friends crazy not knowing what I was doing or where I might be.

Finding myself in an abandoned building, I wondered why life was worth living. Searching the floor for more like it was a chore, I came across the body of another soulless nobody. Next to her sat a bag, some syringes and dirty needles. At this point I don't think I have to tell you what that mixture equals. I quickly found a usable spot to stick amongst a thousand track marks. Once the substance hit my bloodstream, my vision started to get dark.

Now came the time for me to die and make my way to the other side. Getting wise in my very last moments alive, I realized: What a low life I had become and all the damage that was done. Knowing I did it all to fit in and have fun.

With that last gasp of breath, I closed my eyes and welcomed death. When I opened them I found that I was back at the party sitting by myself. I was oblivious to what had occurred and what I had endured. So when the same guy came over to offer me smoke and drink, I didn't really know what to think.

So, knowing with this decision you had everything to lose, which one would you propose I choose? Would you feel behooved to use like you had something to prove? Or elect to reject what others expect?