George had been missing for three days. His mother sat by
the phone hoping to hear from the search party. Across the room the minister
was breathing a prayer. George had been a member of his church, having started
attending at the age of eleven. He was a quiet sort of boy who minded his own
business - was moody at times.
At the age of fifteen he started running around with the wrong crowd. It was at a dance that one of his friends put a "joint" of marijuana in his hand and told him to drag on it. At first he was scared and refused. But when he saw everyone else doing it - he tried it. The smoke swirled through his head. In five minutes he was dancing like a demon -he forgot his problems - he even forgot about God.
The next day he wanted to try it again. Big thrill "great kick - really packed a wallop. This time it chased away the blues. That night he was deathly sick - head throbbing, vomiting - he had to have another joint of "grass." This was the first step toward a life of addiction.
He was now smoking one after another. Often six and seven at a time. But even seven joints didn't "bug" him anymore. The pusher said he felt sorry. He pulled out a small cellophane bag containing a fraction of an ounce of pure, white heroin. "Just sniff it up your nose," he was told. "You'll stay high for two days. Its better - cheaper not habit forming. Marijuana is kid stuff. Try some "horse." He took his first free sniff out of curiosity. It was everything the pusher said it would be. He felt like a king - his conscience didn't bother him. He was fearless - he had a feeling of superiority.
The next day George was looking for another "deck" of heroin. It cost him a lot this time. Three weeks of sniffing was all he could take. The thrill was wearing off. His friends were all "skin popping." They claimed it was a quicker fix and that it conserved the powder. His buddies had "the works." When he first saw them "drilling" with the needle he was upset. It was his turn - but he chickened out. A friend drilled him. It knocked him out. When he awoke - he sat "goofing" for two hours.
It was soon costing a lot each day to keep him high. He could no longer borrow as he owed everyone in the neighborhood. He began to work "angles." He sold all his clothes at the pawn shop. Just twenty-two years of age - he refused to believe he would ever be a drug addict. He even hated the sound of it.
At the age of fifteen he started running around with the wrong crowd. It was at a dance that one of his friends put a "joint" of marijuana in his hand and told him to drag on it. At first he was scared and refused. But when he saw everyone else doing it - he tried it. The smoke swirled through his head. In five minutes he was dancing like a demon -he forgot his problems - he even forgot about God.
The next day he wanted to try it again. Big thrill "great kick - really packed a wallop. This time it chased away the blues. That night he was deathly sick - head throbbing, vomiting - he had to have another joint of "grass." This was the first step toward a life of addiction.
He was now smoking one after another. Often six and seven at a time. But even seven joints didn't "bug" him anymore. The pusher said he felt sorry. He pulled out a small cellophane bag containing a fraction of an ounce of pure, white heroin. "Just sniff it up your nose," he was told. "You'll stay high for two days. Its better - cheaper not habit forming. Marijuana is kid stuff. Try some "horse." He took his first free sniff out of curiosity. It was everything the pusher said it would be. He felt like a king - his conscience didn't bother him. He was fearless - he had a feeling of superiority.
The next day George was looking for another "deck" of heroin. It cost him a lot this time. Three weeks of sniffing was all he could take. The thrill was wearing off. His friends were all "skin popping." They claimed it was a quicker fix and that it conserved the powder. His buddies had "the works." When he first saw them "drilling" with the needle he was upset. It was his turn - but he chickened out. A friend drilled him. It knocked him out. When he awoke - he sat "goofing" for two hours.
It was soon costing a lot each day to keep him high. He could no longer borrow as he owed everyone in the neighborhood. He began to work "angles." He sold all his clothes at the pawn shop. Just twenty-two years of age - he refused to believe he would ever be a drug addict. He even hated the sound of it.
It was late that same night when his mother was called to
the morgue to identify him. The funeral will long be remembered. His body was
wrapped in asbestos with only his face showing.
If this is the life that you are facing, it almost always
ends with a casket and devastated loved ones identifying the body at the
morgue. You have the power to prevent
your life ending this way. Contact us at
Above It All Treatment Center and let us start you on the road to getting your
life. Our personalized plans are
designed with you in mind. We are here
for you. All it takes is for you to make
the first contact.
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