Book: I, my friends and heroin. Page 2

These thoughts began quite innocently. I thought to myself: this is real shit. First, you are throwing your only friend, then best friend. There is no friendship among the narcos! You're completely alone! You'll always be one! Everything else is imagination. And all this terror for one dose! Every day a terror.

Of all his bright plans and dreams were only purple smoke...

Instead of kissing mom, I was hoping to exchange for the flowers, I got the belt from dad...

Mike contemptuously looked down on us, barely noticing, and I thought again that I'm only thirteen, and that needle I still really grow and grow. I felt a complete nonentity. Sorry, but after a couple of months Misha died.

Went to the doctor, but he only threw the wood. "All the nerve!" he said after the inspection, and prescribed me valium. When I told him why these nerves, he said a couple of days ago it came to the girl, said that she was a drug addict, and asked what to do. "And you advised her?" - I asked.
"Nothing - she can only hang,' replied the doctor. To help here is impossible."

The insulator of the children's Department was a spotless white room with an area of two square meters. No pictures on the walls, nothing. All sterile. Sister silently brought food and pills and just as silently disappeared. Sometimes a doctor came in and asked how I feel. I wasn't allowed to leave the room, even to pee. No radio, no books I had, and I've often thought that it, probably, becomes crazy...

I loved the horses and donkeys that were there with them. But in the race I was attracted to something other than just riding horses. I see time and time again that I have the power and authority. The horse I saddled was stronger than me, but I could control them at will. If I fell, then rose again. I have fallen and rose until, as the horse, shocked by my insistence, I began to listen to me.

And under the pavement - the beach!