Cocaine Addiction

I could hear the deafening noise of people arguing bitterly. Loud heated conversations were more than my ears could handle. People whose voices were awfully familiar made shouts of unutterable words. Banging on walls and surrounding metallic clutter added to the noise. It was a situation I was glad I didn’t have to handle. Then suddenly, a heavy blow went landing with a deafening bang on the only warming place we knew. General chaos and commotion ensued as people ran in all directions. The adjacent cartoned and newspaper houses caught fire. More chaos as some tried to put out the fire. The air became dense with smoke and the natural daily stench of our neighborhood did not make things any better.

Then, out of nowhere, a brain-shuttering wail of sirens was more than audible. That was the last thing this closely knit fraternity would desire. The sound of heavy-engine vehicles could be heard approaching. Now the activities changed from putting off the fire to running for dear life. Law enforcers had been the fraternity’s dangerous enemy and even the little ones had been taught that. People were bumping on each other as they ran to find a safe hide out. Others were being trampled on after tripping on the clutter.

I could hear the sound of someone shouting instructions. I edged over and saw a huge, heavily dressed man dragging a heavy dark hose. The yellow flames were getting closer and closer and it was getting warmer and warmer. Then suddenly I realized that there was no more noise and everyone seemed to have disappeared. Then the hushed voices behind alerted me of the presence of intruders in my hideout. I quickly moved away from them and found myself another haven.

I saw it, neatly packaged in a clear plastic bag. I could hardly believe my luck. He must have dropped it accidentally while freeing. I carefully opened the wrapping and gave myself a generous helping. The feeling was comparable to no other. The heat was becoming more and more unbearable. I had to move. I tried to crawl but my foot was stuck. As I bent over to free it, something heavy knocked my head. Gradual darkness fell over me.

I woke up in a funny smelling brightly lit room. My head hurt so badly.  I could feel the ache in my whole body as my eyes followed the visible parts of my body, all covered in bandages. I could hear a concerned voice talking about me. I was only thirteen, having been hooked on cocaine for as long as I can remember.

I had not known of any other world other than my street family. The kind nurse offered to help me clean up, go to school and make something of myself. I now have an opportunity to dream, where do I start? How do I help my street family?