The Light.

North.

I know. I know heroin is bad for me, I know it's a bad drug, something that can kill me, but I'd rather be dead than go through this shit I am now. Sometimes I shoot up more and more than normal but I just can't seem to die. He's started raping me more and more, its more constant more painful, more intense, more, more violent.. I shoot more and more sometimes my vein gets so swollen because it's so full. I love the high, the distraction, the numbness, the, the nothingness. Before I got my hands on my own herion, I would be so sore everywhere after he used me, now as long as I stay shooting up I stay numb, nothing hurts me. I cry but I never have tears when I'm high. I try to visit dad as much as possible but sometimes it's hard, hard to see him like that, hard to get away from uncle Jim's grasp, and so hard to act as normal, as sober as I have to so that I dont get caught by anyone and sent away. I need this, I need my heroin, I need my escape. I have to have it. I can't live without it, and all because my uncle couldn't help his hand. I wish, I wish someone would just show up out of the blue and just rescue me, sweep me off my feet and fly out of here with me, take me somewhere far away. I wish and wish, but in the end, that's all it is. That's all I have. That's all I'll ever have..