A group of young guys had gathered around a lifeless body on the road. A minivan had just hit a girl and sped off. The girl bounced on the road and rolled around once and came to a stop. The rest of the girls on the street scattered. A couple of guys came to check on the girl. A crowd gathered and collected what little valuables she had left with her. A girl saw it all from her second floor window on Sheil road, Liverpool. Natalie was aware of the hazards of what she used to do. She knew the roads were dangerous, especially at night. But then, day or night - she was never truly safe. Her escape was only in heroin. She did not dare to build a world of her own by her own means. She tried before. It never worked out. So she had transferred the responsibility to what society calls ‘substance’. Heroin gave her a cushion, her sleep and let her keep her sanity. Or so she used to think. Natalie was alone. Her addiction was not. It came with dependence, depression, homelessness and reject...
Confessions of n00bs