In the Beginning

It was as dull day as any, I was in seventh grade. My friend handed me an Adderall, I had no idea what it did, I just wanted to see what it was like to physically feel different. Within the hour, I was bouncing off the walls, astounded that one pill could do so much. I did my home work, I held doors for people, I was polite, it changed me entirely.

The next time, I took two, it was the best I had ever felt. I found more joy in these little orange pills than I did in any church or social group. After ingestion, the pills began to work. I felt happy, happy to be alive. The world became brighter than I had ever seen it.

My drug issues were being coming apparent when I began to use them to ease my psychological issues. I began buying them in large quantities and snorting them so the feeling would hit faster.

Then I began to need them, my massive usage was plaguing my body. I knew it would. To compensate, I would do more. The pills no longer made the world brighter, they made it morose, melancholy. I took more and more, to gain back that beautiful world I once knew.

I hadn’t even smoked pot yet, and I was doing around 15 to 20 lines of adderall a day, to release the tension of demons, only to create more.