Itchy. She was itchy and it was everywhere. Her legs, her arms, and especially the back of her neck. 'This is torture. This is how I'm going to die' She thought and she was sure of it. Her body was shaking; drenched in sweat and the jacket that bound her arms to her chest wasn't helping her.

The four white walls around her seems as though they were closing in on her and secretly she prayed that they would smash her out of his misery. There was nothing in the room but four white walls a bench and a video camera. It was only three days ago that she was so confident that she would be fine, that locking her up in this room with nothing to entertain herself with would be nothing but a waste of everyone's time, but now, three days later, she was sure that it was over for her.

Her shaking body was making her sore all over but she couldn't stop. She wasn't hot but she couldn't stop perspiring. And the itching, oh, the itching was the worse. A sensation that taunted her but she couldn't itch it. She pressed her back against the padded door and let her head collide with it repeatedly, groaning and each time hitting her head just a little bit harder.

"Please," she cried, "I'll do anything just I need another hit another injection maybe, I can't do this it hurts. So much I'll do anything you want, anything!" She cries as they had been before were ignored and she couldn't help but wonder how she ended up here surrounded by white walls in the first place.

Kendall was dealt a pretty crappy hand in life. Growing up she had to take care of herself. Her mother was never home and neither was her father. It was bearable. She didn't mind being alone at home because when her parents were home, they were still happy and they were a family and Kendall only wishes her life could have stayed that way. The problem is, things changed.

She remembers the night that something in her somewhat happy home broke and the comforting place she called home no longer felt so comforting. Thats when the fighting started and the screaming. She'd hide in the closet and try to drown out the sound of glass plates being smashed against the wall with music. Then the drinking started and no more than a year after that her father left and took all the money he could with him. That left Kendall and her mum, though, her mum, after that, was never present. When she was, she wasn't sober. She has lost her job, her husband, and all the money she'd been saving over the years.

That happened when Kendall was about 14. When she was 15 her mother hit rock bottom and became desperate. She sold her body to make enough money for her to keep their run down house. Everyday a new stranger was in their home and as if it couldn't get worse, her mother got the brilliant idea of selling her young and beautiful daughter as well. Kendall wouldn't oblige.

In retrospect, Kendall didn't start her addiction. Her mother did. She'd use heroin and other drugs to haze Kendall's mind as she let random men take advantage of her daughter. Sure they got the money they were looking for, but Kendall felt filthy and dirty and hated her mother for letting people do such horrible things to her for something as substantial as money. Kendall spent months planning her escape from her imprisonment at home but after 5 months she started to question it. It wasn't homesickness. No, it was more than that. She was craving the drugs and how else was she supposed to get it. She adored the moments of relief she got when she was passed out unaware of anything and not having to care about anything around her.

She decided that she would stay, but only until she could figure out how to find a dealer of her own. By the time she turned 16 she was all on her own. A dealer at hand and worked the streets in order to make the money to buy what kept her alive that long. Drugs. All Kendall remembered from the day before she found herself in this ominous white walled prison was being approached in an alleyway by a boy. He had to be about Kendall's age, possibly a bit older. Kendall at this point had a needle in hand about to press it into her arm.

"Are you okay" The boy asked kneeling down to her and sitting beside her. Kendall was beyond confused as to why this boy that she didn't know, would stop to talk to a girl whose drugging herself and proceed to ask if she's okay. She knew she'd never been truly cared for before, but she was almost sure you have to know said person before you decide to care about them. Kendall shook her head before pressing the needle into her arm and pressing down on the syringe. It didn't take long for the drug to begin to take over her senses, but the boy still wouldn't leave. Instead he took the syringe from her hand rested it between them and held her hand.

"It's okay. It gets better. Sleep now, okay?" Her mind wasn't functioning well enough to fight him and eventually she did as she was told and she was out like a light bulb.

Thats how she ended up here, confined, grimy and itchy. Her head hurting, her body aching and feeling completely out of sorts. She sits still (well as still as she possibly can) in a corner of a room trying to relax herself with peaceful thoughts, but her lack of experience and no mind control proved it to be a lot more challenging than she previously thought. The door opened.

"Miss Snow? Miss Snow you have a visitor." A woman in a white coat says as she appears in the doorway. She wasn't sure whether she should laugh or scoff at her absurd comment and some hybrid between both slipped between her lips.

"Will you act sane enough if I let them in?"

"I don't know ma'am, maybe you should slip me something, you know, to help relax me."

"Nice try Kendall. Andrew, would you come in?" Andrew? 'Who the hell is Andrew?' It better not be my bastard father. Oh how she loathed the coward who left her to fend for herself. She wishes he were dead, well not wishes, but if her were dead she knew she'd find some sense of pleasure. Not the type she was looking for though. 

The pleasure she needed came from OD'ing on injections, like heroin, her favored drug over the other ones. It wasn't the high she craved. What she craved was the relaxed sensation. The feeling of being powerless and not feeling as though she had to care. Her eyes dilated at the mere thought of having another needle pressed to her arm and then piercing her delicate skin where it's been pierced so many times before. A male, maybe 5"11" but with a young face peeks his head around the door steals himself a glance at Kendall before giving the nurse a curt nod. The nurse looks back and forth between us before leaving the room and closing the door.

"Oh yes and you must be Andrew, the guy I know nothing about but apparently knows me well enough to visit me in my white walled restraints. I'd shake your hands but I'm currently giving myself hug because there's nothing else I can do in this ever so delightful foolishly designed jacket." He looks and her, intriguing and nods before he takes a seat, unphased, beside her.

"They're only trying to help you" he says plainly. He opens the little satchel on his hip that Kendall had failed to notice, and Kendall got a strange rush of excitement.

"Did you bring a needle? Is that what's in there? You came to bring me what I need and to stop my suffering! My knight in shining armor!" In her mind she is hugging him so hard that she's squeezing the life out of him. But Andrew laughs. Andrew laughs and shakes his head and instead pulls out a book and a pack of face wipes. 

The gleam in her eyes turned dull again and she groaned. Was she really expecting him to just whip out a needle and some heroine and help her get that feeling again? He probably had to go through a lot of security to get in here. And paperwork.

"I'm sorry to have disappointed you Kendall. Just thought it would have been nice to talk to something other than a camera where people are monitoring your every move." She found that Andrews intentions were well so she let him wipe her face clean of tears and grime and possibly makeup. The wipes are cool against her warm skin she she liked they way his hands made peace with her face. Soft motions, never rough or rushed.

"Are you alright now? Your face looks clean, a lot better than when I first found you, through your eyes-"

"Since you found me? What do you mean since you found me?"

"You really don't remember me do you?"

"That's beside the point Andrew. Do you realize what you've done?"

"Um helping you get over an addiction that's going to kill you? I really don't know what you're complaining about"

"So what's going to happen after  I'm 'clean'. Lets see. I don't have a home to go to so I'll be back in the streets. I can't work for my pimp anymore because he'll probably kill me at first sight, that also mean I'll have no money to my name so no food. So I really do thank you for all-"

"You can live with me" He offers. She laughs until she realizes he's being completely genuine.

"You're kidding me right? I'm sure you mother would love having a girl you just found drugging herself on the street who is also a former drug addict living in you house."

"It's fine I promise we have lots of room, now can we please move past this and read this book? Its truly one of my favorites." She didn't know how to respond to him and the colloquial tone of his side the the conversation so she sits quietly. He takes this as his cue to start reading.

This is how the next few months continued. She sat and listened as he read to her and eventually, before she knew it, she was out free and surprisingly living with him and his family and they were all happy until a nuclear bomb went off under their house while Kendall wasn't home and the family that she was staying with along with Andrew all blew up in the explosion. She didn't know what to do. Her family, or the closest thing she has to one just blew up and once again she was left to the street, working for a new pimp and re-falling in love with the feel of the cold metal needle breaking her skin.

~~~

A/N So i wrote this when I was in 8th grade as part of a health class project. I have since made minor grammatical edits, but here is a 13 y/o's writing about drugs in all its glory. The stories will probably get better as we go on considering I'm 5 years older now. Hope you enjoyed!