She remembered swerving, cocaine lane, snowy baby in her veins. The powdery white flakes caked around her nostrils, giving her the high on life she was always searching for. A river of snot and the drug trailed towards her lip, but she didn’t notice. She wouldn’t, not now.

For fifteen years she had been searching for the place to find herself, to find what she thought life was all about. She had found it a year ago at sixteen.

They hit hard, bringing the rush of life with them. The knocked her on her back the first time she had any. She had lain on the ground then, staring at the stars. Kenny had asked if she was ok. Her mumbled response was enough to make him happy.

Josh found her the next morning, stoned and still on the ground. He had always been a nice boy. But nice wasn’t what she ever needed. She needed the rush, the adrenaline, skipping from one high to the next high to find her satisfaction. There wasn’t satisfaction without anymore.


Money was taken from purses, from pockets, from her little brother’s piggy bank. Kenny wouldn’t feed her habit anymore. He quit a few months ago, saying she was always stingy, always wanting more. She didn’t think so. He had given it to her, he was her source. She needed him to give her more.

It was paid for with all stolen money; she couldn’t keep down a job. The only time she could think was when she was floating above her body, in the sky, looking down on everything. Without it she was a stone, she couldn’t feel, she couldn’t move.

Mother found her rummaging through the purse that night.

What are you doing.

I need some money. I’m going to the movies with friends.

Kenny?

No.

Who?

Nobody.

Exactly, you don’t have friends. Have you been taking money from my purse?

She didn’t reply to that. The accusation carried in mother’s voice was too much. It was the reason she did this. Everything mother had let him do to her, it was all mother’s fault. Mother was the reason she was the way she was.

Get out of my house! You will never steal from me again!!

She turned into a monster; she needed that money, she needed it for the white powder she hid under her bed. She needed it, she needed it, she needed it. It was all she had left, the only thing keeping her attached to this earth.


The police came. Mother had called them.

Little brother sobbed upstairs.

They tackled her, held her arms to her back and her nose in the carpet.

Handcuffs chafing against tiny wrists.

They lifted her by her armpits.

She was hurting.

Throwing her in the back of the car, they locked the door.

And she gave up.