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I was 18 when I started shooting Meth. I wasn't afraid of it because I knew I was different. But within days, all I cared about was more. I stayed up for days at a time. I quit eating. I saw white vans everywhere that I knew were filled with people trying to catch me. Time went on and my friends started disappearing. I begged my Mom for money for food and medicine just to buy meth. Eventually I developed a cyst in my back full of toxins. I was sick for two years but I still went back to Meth. I lost forty pounds in two months. My bones were protruding out. I was back in the hospital for a month. Then they found a staph infection in my leg from shooting the drug. I nearly died.
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