Hi my name is Rebecca and I am addicted to heroin. This is the line I have to say every morning at my meeting. It's bad enough I'm stuck in rehab until God Knows when, but I have to attend these meetings every single morning. I have an addiction and I'm not going to deny it but I do not understand why I have to constantly repeat it. It's as if they think if I don't say it I will forget about it. That just proves that these people know nothing about addiction. I don't have to speak the words to know the truth since the addiction runs my mind and throws all of my common sense out of the window. The urge rushes through my veins begging for a hit to fulfill them. It is a reality I live with and I am not ashamed to say, that when I get out of here I have every intention of getting high. Call it selfish, stupid or whatever you may, it is, but it's not me calling the shots anymore. This so called addiction is stronger then anything you can imagine and I have fallen prey to it.

It all started two years ago when I was fifteen, in my hometown of Smithtown, upper middle class suberbia, I guess describes it well. Every house has perfectly manicured lawns and every driveway has atleast one or more cars parked that do not cost less then forty grand. However if you walked through the doors passed the picture perfect setting you would realize all the outside was, was a fake facade that these people live behind. Perfection doesn't exist, I know this now no thanks to my parents. My parents like pretty much every other parent who's teenager is addicted to drugs continued to hide behind the fake facade. So much so that they almost believed it to be true. In their eyes I was the perfect daughter with blonde hair and blue eyes. I made the cheerleading team freshman year of high school and my grades qualified me for AP classes. My parents didn't need to see past that, they were happy and content with the outer shell. The inner workings of me were to difficult for them to deal with so they ignore it and focused solely on my best attributes. I don't blame my parents for my addiction to heroin, but I don't think they did much in the way of helping me avoid it. As a teenager so much is expected of you and most of the time parents are to involved with themselves that they don't see how damaging the pressure could be. My parents never did and they kept up the fake facade until the night they answered a knock at the door and had no choice but to face reality.

Earlier that night I had gone out with my friends. They had picked me up at my house and our plans were simple; get high. Marcus was driving he was eighteen and the one who gave me my first hit. He wasn't your typical druggie, non of us were, he was on the basketball team and the honor roll and like he told me my first time, it was his way to be free and forget the pressures of life. He was right. When I was high I didn't have to worry about school work, cheerleading, anything, my mind was free from it all. Heroin became my life along with all of my friends. In most schools you can point out the druggies, but in ours you couldn't and the truth was you'd probably have a better chance at pointing out the non users. Heroin took over my life, my friends, my school and my hometown as if it was an epidemic slowly infecting each victim until there was no survivors. That particular night we called our usual dealer and waited for him to meet us on the corner of Main Street and Rose.

My best friend Laura and I sat in the car while Marcus walked to the dealers car and jumped in the passenger side. A few minutes passed the transaction was made and Marcus was back in the driver seat and we were off to our favorite spot a few blocks over. We pulled up in front of the playground where I spent many days as a child and we made our way to the jungle gym and after that it pretty much becomes a blur to me. All I know is what I have been told and that is that I took too much and even though my friends left me by myself, I believe only out of fear of the reprocussions they would have had to ensue, they called 911 as they drove away. They gave an annoynomous tip and within minutes flashing lights were swirling in the distance. This is when my parents had to accept the reality of who I was and it pains me to say that I think they would have prefered if I had died on that jungle gym. They could have kept their fake facade and pretended like it was my first time experimenting with the drug and it just went terribly wrong. Their lives could have gone on and they wouldn't have to deal with a daughter in rehab. Things obviously did not work out that way and I am still here on my way to my daily meeting, getting ready to speak my favorite words: "Hi I am Rebecca and I am addicted to Heroin."

I walk down the white hallway to where our meetings take place and slowly drag myself into the room of secret denial. Most of the people who are here don't believe they have a problem, they just want to go through the motions and get out. I own up to my problem, but that still doesn't mean that I am not just going through the motions just to get out like the rest of them. I take my usual seat in between Rick a cocaine addicted stockbroker and Cassie a mother of two who cares more about the bottle then her own children. This room is a self esteem booster in my eyes, I never thought I could meet people who have more problems then I do. Who knew all I had to do was come to rehab to feel better about myself. I stare across the circle our chairs are arranged in and spot George looking up at me, he gives me a quick smile and then diverts his attention to the floor. George has been here from the day I got here always diverting his attention else where taking refuge in his chair and hiding behind a thick mess of hair. His story is typical, had parents who never cared started drugs at a young age and now is spending his day talking about his problems. He was forced into rehab after he drove his car into a tree while he was high on ecstasy. They say he's lucky to be alive, but like me I wonder if he wishes he wasn't.

I look passed George to Marge who like me is addicted to heroin. She's not young like me, her body is fragile and she has dark bags under her eyes, but if you look passed the sadness in her eyes and the long brown curly hair in her face you can almost see the girl she use to be. Looking at her is the only thing that gets me thinking that maybe it is time to fight my addiction to the death. I'm just scared that it will be to the death and I myself will not be the winner. The five of us are in our usual spots among the circle, but there is another chair added to the group. I can't help but wonder who is going to be filling that seat and what problem are they going to have. Crystal Meth? Pill popper? Another drunk? I turn to Rick for answers.

"What's up with the extra chair? Is someone new joining our group?"

"Wouldn't surprise me." He replied in his casual voice. See Rick has two voices, the first one his casual voice and then the second his business voice. His business voice I noticed he uses when he tries to sound intelligent and get a point across. If you ask me he has spent one to many years kissing ass on the stock market floors besides his casual voice suits him much better, You pick up on these things when you are with the same people day in and day out. Their corks the little insignificant things that make them unique as a person. Like Marge for instance when she's nervous to talk about a particular subject she starts to twist her hair around her finger. George wiggles his nose like Samantha on Bewitched and Cassie fidgets with her hands constantly. My cork I shake my leg uncontrollably and even if I try to hold it down it keeps going. Like a ticking time bomb ready to explode and thrust me out away from this place. I wonder what this new person's cork is going to be and who they are going to be.

I hear footsteps come into the room and not to look too obvious I keep my head directed away from them. I cross my legs and lean back waiting for them to take their seat amongst their fellow addicts. I see a pair of skateboarding shoes out of the corner of my eye and notice they must belong to a man. Then again the style the way they are worn is more teenage like. Could this mean I will no longer be the youngest one in this facility? I couldn't take the suspense any longer I slowly eased my head up until I was staring directly at him. His eyes were green like the summer's grass and his brown hair fell perfectly around his face. I like George divert my attention to the floor, I can't believe I was just staring at him like a dog in heat. He doesn't even seem to notice though, he just walks to the open chair and plops down in it obviously not thrilled to be here either.

The room is silent almost eerie, no one is talking no one is trying to find out who this new guy is. I guess because we're going to spend the next hour introducing ourselves and talking about our problems they don't want to get a head start. If we run out of things to talk about Jennifer our group therapist makes us do activities and nobody ever wants to do activities. There is only so many times you could do the close your eyes and lean back, do you trust the people around you, to catch you and keep you from falling? It's ridiculous of course I trust them in this setting they have to participate and Jennifer is breathing down our neck the whole time so they wouldn't not catch me. If we weren't here in this place I wouldn't know them from a hole in the wall and I probably wouldn't trust them.

"Good morning everyone. How are we today?" Jennifer comes into the room rays of sun shine practically spewing from in between her teeth. She is loud and perky not something I want to deal with so early in the morning. We all do the usual greeting and continue to stare off into our own worlds. Jennifer pulls a chair up to us her brown frosted hair perfectly shaped in a bob bounces with each step. She takes her seat and immediatley focuses her attention on the new comer. "Everyone, as you can see we have a new addition to our group. Would you like to introduce yourself?" She asks him her voice seems perkier then usual.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"You asked me if I want to introduce myself and I answered you. No I don't want to, but if I have to I will." He didn't flinch, didn't crack a smile he just said what he wanted to say and that was that. That only makes me want to know more about him. I want to know his story, heck it has to be interesting or atleast more interesting then the same stories I have been listening to every morning. He has an auro about him that is mysterious, I feel drawn to him and I don't know why.

"Yes I would like you too, that is the point of these meetings." Jennifer said her usually calm collective demeanor was slowly slipping away.

"My names Lucas."

"Hi Lucas." We all said in unison as if we were trained labrador retrievers.

"Lucas it is nice to meet you." Jennifer said trying to regain control of her emotions. Lucas just nodded in her direction. I like his style. "Why don't you tell us why you are here."

"I'm forced to be here." He said.

"Lucas I understand this is not exactly a place you want to be, but we are here to lend support to each other. So please." Jennifer scratched at her neck something I have noticed in the past she does when she is not getting through to someone. You can tell she takes it to heart.

"Well Jennifer is it?"

"Yes it is. You can call me Jen if you'd like though."

"Ok, Jen have you ever gone through an addiction?"

"Um." She suddenly looked nervous. "No I have not."

"Then how can you sit here and tell us anything? I mean no offense or anything, but how can you even begin to give advice to someone if you yourself has never experienced it."

"I have gone through school, I have a degree in..."

"Sorry to interupt, but how much can a book really tell you. Have you ever had an urge for something so bad that you feel you would do almost anything to satisfy it? Have you ever screwed your family and friends over just so you can get a hit?" He sat there waiting for a response the smirk I was expecting to be on his face was not instead a look of desperation. He looked as if he wanted answers, but he wanted answers that no one could give him or atleast Jennifer. I could give him answers and even if I couldn't I would understand him.

Jennifer met his eyes with the same desperation, trying to find the right words without setting him off again. "Lucas I have never experienced that personally, but I have gone through it with..." Jennifer paused for a minute then continued "my brother." Everyone's attention zoomed into her, never before had she really discussed her personal life. She always tried to hold the meetings to revolve around us and our problems, going through the motions of it all. No more then five minutes of being here Lucas has her spilling her well guarded secrets. "My brother like Rebecca and yourself was addicted to heroin." Now she had my complete attention. "However my brother never got the chance to go into rehab to get clean and start fresh like you two have." Her eyes began to fill with tears as she stared blankly across the circle. "On his twenty first birthday he went out with friends to celebrate, my parents and I wished him a happy birthday and asked him to be careful. We thought turning twenty one meant he'd be out drinking all night and we were more concerned with drunk driving then anything else. We didn't know about his addiction until that night when we got a phone call that he was found dead in an alley way outside of the club." She wiped a tear from her cheek as everyone stared on in complete silence. "I was eighteen in my first year of college majoring in business. After that day I changed my major and swore to myself that I would spend the rest of my life helping others with their problems since I wasn't able to be there for my brother." She straightened up in her chair, cleared her throat and gained her composure. "So Lucas to answer your question, No I have not, but I know what it's like to lose someone to addiction and I don't want your loved ones to have to go through what I went through."

"I..." Lucas went to speak, but Jennifer kept talking.

"Let's just start over ok?"

"Sure." He smiled at her his desperation gone looking as if he got the answer he was looking for. "Hi my name is Lucas and I am addicted to heroin." Jennifer smiled up at him and there was no question of the sincerity."

"Hi Lucas." We all went with it.

"Lucas why don't you tell us why you are here today."

"I'm eighteen and instead of going off to college like the rest of my friends I stayed behind. I got a job working construction and one of the guys I worked with was hooked. He introduced me to it and I haven't been able to stop. My dad couldn't take it anymore and that is why I am here." His face was somber with the mention of his father. You could tell he didn't want to hurt his father and that was the reason he was here, not for himself, but for his father.

The entire time I have been here I have met cocaine addicts, alcoholics, perscription pill addicts who are younger then eighteen I have yet to meet another heroin addict close to my age and that makes me want to know him.

Part 2