Losing My Virginity

      Ginger pulled my car into the parking lot. I was in no condition to drive on that hot and humid Chicago afternoon. Melissa’s jabbering in the back seat was getting on my nerves and all I could think about was the newfound technique they were going to share with me. I was consumed with a combination of nervousness and excitement. I had longed for this day but never worked up the courage to actually have a needle in my arm. It was now a necessity if I were to go on living this lifestyle. I was constantly congested from snorting heroin. Ginger and Melissa had plenty of experience but this would be my first time.
      I surveyed the area. There was nobody in the vehicles next to us and a minimal number of pedestrians. This was the ideal spot. Ginger reached into her crotch and pulled out the stash that we had copped moments before. She had fixed just a few hours ago and she threw Melissa a pinch with the hope that our whinny tag along would shut the fuck up. She didn’t. The women bickered about how much Ginger should shoot me up with. I was snorting about four grams a day by then so Ginger’s idea of shooting me up with a half gram seemed reasonable to me. Melissa’s idea of a tenth of a gram did not appeal to my insatiable appetite for heroin but I wasn’t sure because I was entering a new realm. Ginger and I agreed with Melissa just to quiet her down. I didn’t watch as Ginger cooked and drew the dope. I didn’t even watch as she shot me up. I was terrified of needles. She pulled the rig out of my arm and asked if I felt the rush. Nothing. I didn’t feel a rush, a high, or even a cure to my nagging sickness. Melissa said I was just expecting too much but Ginger knew better. She could see that I was still suffering from severe withdrawal.
      I asked Ginger for a half gram and she obliged. Melissa was half nodding in the back seat and mumbling something about me overdosing. We ignored her. Once again, I didn’t watch Ginger cook or draw but I did look down at what was happening after I felt the smooth pin prick in my arm. The tan liquid in the rig turned red. Ginger plunged it into my vein. As I watched the syringe empty into my arm, I felt a comfortable warmth rush through my body and into my mind. I completely relaxed.
      I drifted into a peaceful dream world where pain and struggle did not exist. I was tranquil. I was fixed. I was hooked. Within seconds of losing my virginity, I became a whore to the needle.


Copyright © 2012 Christian Falco