Driving that Train, High on :: Short Stories Drugs Addiction Papers

Driving that Train, High on. . . "If I could do one line today and not be an addict, I would,'" Melissa said when she was sober and knew she could not handle cocaine. But when she was face to face with the candy for the first time in almost a year, she didn't care whether or not she would become an addict again. Knowing the devastation the drug would cause, knowing one line would bring back all the pain again, she still wanted it more than her education, more than her family, she would have given everything for it, all over again. Sitting at the table, hair pulled back in a pony tail, dressed in a sweater and chinos, (she had really cleaned herself up from a year ago) Melissa drank her beer as if it were going out of style. Watching her friend exchange money for a bag, she had to ask "Can I have a line?" "Melissa, I know you want one, but can you do one and not get hooked on it again?" "Yeah, sure." "I don't want to be the one who gets you all fucked up." "If I couldn't handle it I would tell you, I swear." Melissa walked back to the party, now anxious, and took a seat in her chair. This time she wasn't worried about drinking her beer. The only thing she now thought about was getting that line. She kept him in her sight, the way parents keep an eye on their young children to make sure they don't take off somewhere. If he left, she wouldn't get a line. She wanted that line. "Just one, it won't do anything." "I will in a second, wait until we get back to your house." "It's safe here, no one cares, let's go in the bathroom, no one will know." "Just wait, Melissa." She walked away again. She didn't realize it but she went up to him every five minutes for the rest of the night. "Can I have a line?" "Can I have that line?" "Can I have that line now?" Before she knew it everyone was in the back room, snorting coke. No one would give her a line. She got pissed off and snuck out the sliding glass door.