by L. Easton

Created on: June 14, 2009

One hit is all it takes, with the sweet numbing taste, making your heart race, and leaving you wanting more. Yes, one hit of crack cocaine, is all it took to change my life.

At first it didn't seem obvious, the changes which had occurred. As I was only smoking enough, for the abundant amount of energy it gave me. I would use that energy to zip through my house, cleaning every nook and cranny I could find. Though it didn't take long; Before I wanted more... Slowly refusing to be around my friends, not to mention my lose of interest of any hobby. I needed to find an endless supply of this energetic wonder drug. Ah yes, I needed to find a dealer.

I never knew what I was getting myself into, when I found him. He was straight with me. Told me as long as I gave him what he wanted, and did not steal from him, that I would have as much crack as I could handle. We were together for about three months, I was his. I was not to be out of his sight as I had became the carrier. If anyone was going down for the drugs, it was going to be me.

One night he asked for his 8-ball, as he needed to cookit down and break it up, to make dime-spots. I couldn't find it, I was looking everywhere. Starting to panic now, as he is freaking out in the background Give me my stuff wench or you're going to die! As he cocked the gun, I slipped off my bra, and handing it to him saying You know this is where I keep it, check for yourself.

With the gun is his left hand, aimed at my head, he tore the bra apart. The spirits were with me that day, as his stuff was tucked down in a corner seam. As he laid the gun on the table, he sat down, and mumbled You're lucky it was there, next time you won't be. Believe it or not I stayed with him for another two weeks, before he lost interest in me, and kick me to the curb.

So there I was, with only a trick as a companion whom on occasion, would pay a night at the motel for me. I ended up at a homeless center. I was only 20 years old. Though no one could tell, because the crack had changed my appearance. With my cheeks sunk in, and the dark circles under my eyes, it made me look twice my age. Plus I had to wear baggy clothes just to look like I had any weight.

This was a turning point for me, the point where life didn't matter anymore. I only wanted it to all end, even if it meant with my life. So I climbed atop a bridge and sat, waiting for the right moment to just let go.

A cigarette saved my life that day, how? Someone called out to me, asking if I was alright. With my eyes still closed I could smell the nicotine, I told him that I was fine, then asked him if he could spare a cigarette. He agreed, only if I would get down to get it. He gave me three, and I was near the end of the second one when the police picked me up. I stayed at the hospital, which they brought me to, just long enough to figure out what I was doing. Then I fled as far away as I could, to start life anew.

I am not proud of my experience with crack cocaine, though I have learned numerous lessons. I learned that no drug is worth losing my friends, or morals. That I have to work hard at anything I want in life, and that I am very fortunate that I did not end up like some of the girls I left behind, with diseases or dead.

Among other lessons, the most important lesson I learned, is with a will there is a way. So if you are or know someone with a crack cocaine addiction, you can get help with the road to recovery. I am proud to say that I am now 9 years clean. If I can do it, so can others.

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