For a long time, I was never the one to get the drugs, they were always there like they were just waiting for me.

The first time I had to be the one to do the pick up was terrifying at first. The idea of it always made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t the idea of getting caught with drugs and arrested that bothered me, I could handle that no big deal. But going to an unfamiliar place to meet a stranger to just hand money off and hope you’re getting what you paid for…? It seemed sketchy to me.

The girl that usually did this part gave me step by step instructions. What to do, where to go, how to act and the amount of cash needed. I was ready well at least she thought I was.

I wasn’t headed to some random guy in an ally like I thought I would be. She gave me a house address told me to knock on the back door and just say my name she told them I was coming. Now the anxiety is off the charts and I want so bad to chicken out, but I’m starting to feel sick and sweaty.

Off I went thinking all the worst things were about to happen to me. I remember knocking on that door and holding my breath. The door opened and the lady on the other side of it smiled and welcomed me in. There were people everywhere. On couches in the kitchen on the floor just people. They were laughing and talking and shooting up like it was nothing to bat an eyelash at.

I remember that lady smiling at the dumbfounded look on my face. “First time in the dope house?” she asked still smiling, I nodded still looking dumbfounded. She directed me as to who to get my stuff from and then told me all about the dope house and what I could do here.

At the moment is was the most perfect thing that could have ever happened to me. In reality, it turned out to be a huge part of the rabbit hole I was about to fall into.

“We must remember that Satan has his miracles, too.” -John Calvin