It always starts the same. Someone in the family dies, or has a baby, or gets married and I’m just going to take that one little hit. I can handle it. I’ve been clean for months, one little hit won’t hurt. I’ll put it right back down.
Weeks later, it occurs to me that I’m hooked again, and I’m planning my life around my addiction. I’ll quit tomorrow. Right after one more hit. John Smith is waiting, and I have to find him. I hate John Smith. He wants me addicted. He thinks it’s funny. I’d kill him if he weren’t already dead.
So’s his buddy, James Shackleton. Actually, there’s a whole gang of them. John and James hooked up with Tom Bancroft and Priscilla Sutcliffe and started a little gang of zombie pushers who keep me coming back. There’s hundreds of them now. They call themselves The Brick Wall Gang, and they span continents.
I hunt them like Buffy.
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