What I am not going to do is define crack. Check Google for that, this is about how the journey started
Everything in life starts off slowly and if a practice or an act is continued, then comes perfection or something worse, imperfection. As you remember, consistency is key. If you are reading this, I will assume you are either interested in stories about drugs or a crackhead. A quick advice; if you happen to still be in your sheer curiosity phase, re-route your curiosity elsewhere. It is one of the toughest mind games in life and you lose once you assume you are in control. Like I said, this is about how the journey started.
You were in one of the rooms in a subpar guest house with your buddy and two girls whom you were just meeting for the first time. Your buddy knew one of the girls and she came with a friend. There was no plan on how the rest of the night could go as your buddy only booked the room so all four of you could smoke weed together and in your perspective, the girls did not look like they were cheerful enough to have sex for free. The room was stuffy and the ambiance was quite dull. The light skinned girl–– the friend of your buddy’s friend, stood up and took off her biker shorts. She returned back to the bed, lying down this time around with her plump ass in the air. There was no more ‘loud’ and she asked if you had tried smoking crack before, you replied in the affirmative but added that you would love to try it in the nearest future. In a sarcastic tone, she told you the future is now and brought out a small, transparent but knotted nylon from her bag. She reached into the bag again and pulled out an instrument of some sort that took the shape of a small pipe, a lighter and a blade. She loosened the nylon to unveil a small rock that she sliced into halves with the blade. She loaded it on the small pipe, heated it with the lighter and dragged in the extract from the opposite end. She quickly covered her nose with her left hand as she kept her mouth tightly closed. She loaded the other half and invited you to try. That was the very beginning; she exchanged numbers with you before she left with her friend and told you to save it as Angelica. You have heard the name before and you wondered once again why her parents didn’t just stop at Angel.
The small rock wasn’t enough to go round so your buddy and his friend didn’t get to taste this new high, the experience was all yours to share with him as best as you could.` You maintained a good friendship with Angelica for the next three months, the sex was mind-blowing and free but she introduced you to her dealer and you paid for the crack. One year and almost two million naira later, you were already hooked. This story isn’t about you though, it is my story or should I say was my story? Yes, past tense. How does the story end? I stopped assuming I was in control and reclaimed myself back, cold turkey style. On my final night I spent about 550k with a friend in one sitting. I could have gotten a macbook that year. Regrets! Can’t dwell on them. I moved to a new city and smoked only weed. This month makes it two years of being clean. You can do it too.
Yours sincerely,
Uncle Frank
#HighSociety is MoreBranches’ latest series centred on the war on drugs, or an epidemic as big media will rather call it. The 10-part column will feature ten different real stories collected from people across the continent who are willing to share their escapades with drugs, and the results of it, if any yet. If you have a gripping story like this one, do not hesitate to share with us – editor@morebranches.com.
