Story Snippet About A Drug Addict

[darkblackman]

I didn't know why I continued to go to school.
I never did my work, the paper was just a rough, white, empty surface. I never listened to the teachers or the students even..
My mind was never with my body, my body had it's own schedule, and my mind had no schedule, just desire, need...dependence. I didn't see the point in going to school still and yet I did. I continued to go and attend all my classes. Trying to balance my addiction and me education. One was going to take over, and it wasn't the education. I didn't want to face it, but it haunted me, right above my head every time I walked through those front doors. The second period bell had just rung, I was tired and drained of all energy and emotion.
"I've been without cocaine for 8 hours!" I thought "Lee has to have some..he's gotta."
Lee was my dealer. My savior. My messiah...but in reality: my executioner.

I'd figured I'd just meet him after second period and meet up with him near the library like I always did. I'd stare at the clock for half an hour. Watching the second hand tick like it was my lifeline. Why didn't I leave the classroom? Why was I so tame, why was this teacher keeping me from obtaining my little bit of happiness? Why didn't I just stand up and leave? I didn't know. I didn't even know why I walked to the school every morning, I didn't know. I didn't know the answers to a lot of questions anymore though. Except whether or not I wanted a boost to get me through the day. That answer was always on my mind. I was living life the way I wanted to, nobody was going to stop me. I was happy and on top of the world, that's what everyone wants out of life....right?

Criticism is encouraged. This is my first time ever writing something for fun..

[darkblackman]

At 1/26/10 10:21 PM, darkblackman wrote: Trying to balance my addiction and my education.

Fixed..

[Timmy]

At 1/26/10 10:21 PM, darkblackman wrote: I didn't know why I continued to go to school.
I never did my work, the paper was just a rough, white, empty surface. I never listened to the teachers or the students even..
My mind was never with my body, my body had it's own schedule, and my mind had no schedule, just desire, need...dependence. I didn't see the point in going to school still and yet I did. I continued to go and attend all my classes. Trying to balance my addiction and me education. One was going to take over, and it wasn't the education. I didn't want to face it, but it haunted me, right above my head every time I walked through those front doors. The second period bell had just rung, I was tired and drained of all energy and emotion.
"I've been without cocaine for 8 hours!" I thought "Lee has to have some..he's gotta."
Lee was my dealer. My savior. My messiah...but in reality: my executioner.

I'd figured I'd just meet him after second period and meet up with him near the library like I always did. I'd stare at the clock for half an hour. Watching the second hand tick like it was my lifeline. Why didn't I leave the classroom? Why was I so tame, why was this teacher keeping me from obtaining my little bit of happiness? Why didn't I just stand up and leave? I didn't know. I didn't even know why I walked to the school every morning, I didn't know. I didn't know the answers to a lot of questions anymore though. Except whether or not I wanted a boost to get me through the day. That answer was always on my mind. I was living life the way I wanted to, nobody was going to stop me. I was happy and on top of the world, that's what everyone wants out of life....right?

Criticism is encouraged. This is my first time ever writing something for fun..

I enjoyed this story, in that it was just a flickering glimpse into the mind of a young student with the shadow of addiction cast over his daily life - how it consumes his every waking moment, alienating him from his classmates and preventing him from even the easiest of tasks. He has become a zombie walking the path of a normal life.

The self-awareness the student feels lends the character some humanity - he isn't all the way gone into the depths of addiction, but he would be the first to admit that he's on the brink.

As for criticism, I would work on formatting and proofreading above anything else. Tiny errors in grammar, paragraph-formatting and spelling are more distracting to the reader than authors realize. Also, try to avoid over-using ellipsis (...) in your formal writing.

Also, just fyi - on Newgrounds, make sure you double-enter to create new paragraphs - like I have done in this response.

[darkblackman]

Alright, thanks. I might continue it but I'm not sure.

Other NGers, what are your thoughts?

[biohasard]

At 1/26/10 10:54 PM, darkblackman wrote: Alright, thanks. I might continue it but I'm not sure.

Other NGers, what are your thoughts?

I think you need to put a little more originality into you stories. Seriously, How many stories have you read about a student with a drug addiction?

Don't sit around thinking about what to write. A great story will come to you. The most important thing to remember, Don't use other artist's work. Don't write a story about a train, Just because you read one yesterday. Artists can give you inspiration. However, Try not to take their ideas.

[Josh-B]

Whoa, just reading this story made me feel like that addict almost. You gotta write more.

[darkblackman]

At 1/27/10 12:54 AM, Josh-B wrote: Whoa, just reading this story made me feel like that addict almost. You gotta write more.

Alright. I'll write more when I get home from school today. :) It's not that i have to think about what to write it's just if people don't want to read more, posting more isn't exactly the best idea.

If anybody wants to pitch in your two cents on the first post, be my guest.

[darkblackman]

I don't know how long I'm going to keep this story going, just until people stop requesting it I guess.

Part 2:
The bell that marks the end of second period rang. I was suddenly excited, but more than I was excited I was anxious. I always felt anxious before I did cocaine, I didn't know why, maybe in the back of my head I knew I was doing something wrong, but I never gave it too much thought. My hands were trembling by the time I'd made it to Lee. I didn't want him to see my shaking hands so I shoved them in the pocket of my sweat shirt. He was used to seeing me like this, but the hands were a bit over the top, or more so than normal. He didn't ask any questions, though.

Lee didn't look out of the ordinary, but at this point he was the only person I wanted to talk to. He had short hair, he was about six feet, 2 inches tall. He completely towered over me, I was very short, I was only 5 feet, 5 inches tall. He knew I didn't want much, I usually didn't, I handed him the five dollar toll to happiness and he handed me the key to the reassurance that the rest of my day would be fine and that I wouldn't have any problems. "See ya later, Owen." He said. I shook his hand and walked off.

I went into the closest bathroom, entered the stall and locked the door. I pulled out my razor and my notebook and made two small lines. I snorted the lines up, made sure I didn't have any left on my face, and walked out.

I had about two minutes left to get to class, which was more than enough. The teachers wouldn't know I was high, they would have no idea. I walked into the classroom and sat down in my seat. Why was everyone staring at me? Why was I getting all these weird stares? Shit! I had the razor in my hand. What if somebody told on me, or is going to. I went into a panic, if I just put it in my pocket they could find it easily. If I threw it away they could find it in the trash can. I put it in my back pocket. "Owen!" Mrs. Anderson said somewhat loudly. Fuck, fuck, fuck! She knows.

I sat in my seat breaking out into a cold sweat, shaking. She just kept staring at me like I was out of my mind. The girl sitting behind me nudged the back of my shoulder and loudly whispered "Say 'here' !" I sighed in relief. "Here, sorry." She moved on to the rest of the class.

This was going to be a long third period.

[darkblackman]

At 1/27/10 12:52 AM, biohasard wrote:

At 1/26/10 10:54 PM, darkblackman wrote: Alright, thanks. I might continue it but I'm not sure.

Other NGers, what are your thoughts?

I think you need to put a little more originality into you stories. Seriously, How many stories have you read about a student with a drug addiction?

None.

Artists can give you inspiration. However, Try not to take their ideas.

I read Tweak by Nic Sheff about 3 or 4 months ago. I've considered writing a story about a teen with drug addiction for quite some time. I enjoy writing about it. I appreciate the post though.

[darkblackman]

Any thoughts on the second part now that it's out?