Junkie

She didn't dream of being this way as a little girl. Life threw obstacles her way, and sometimes she was able to avoid them, while other times, they smacked her straight in the face. It's hard to find somewhere to lay the blame. But she faces it, every day, and trust, this cruel world never made anything easy. So she lights the match. She heats the spoon. And she sails away to lands unknown, hoping, just for one second, to escape. Because in her dreams, she's a dragon slayer and a princess. She can touch the clouds and sing with the stars. She can be anybody besides who she is now.

That sweet brown liquid, warm yet uncaring. It doesn't judge. It didn't judge her 10th-grade teacher. It didn't judge the lawyer down the street. Nor the pro basketball player who came to speak during high school. It welcomes everybody in with open arms. And then it becomes suffocating. A chokehold. She knows it's bad. She knows she shouldn't touch it anymore, but it's the only thing that makes life worth living. It's too bad that it's so good at being lethal.

The Great American Heist claims yet another life.