I was a recovering drug addict. I just came back from rehab and was hanging around with two of my mates, both with a background of drugs and the other one being my former dealer. I looked like Ben Stiller. My friends started shooting right there, in the shopping mall's balcony we sat in. They offered me the syringe but i said no with ease. I had got rid of my addiction and i had no desire what so ever to do that shit again, in fact i knew that it would not just be bad for me, it would completely destroy me. I had been low, real low. I would die.

I leaned forward with a smile and handed the needle back over my shoulder. My friends exchange looks and then attack me trying to force the needle in my bicep. I start screaming, i call for help, beg for mercy and fight like any man would fight for his life. But i am weak, i see their fanatic eyes and i can't even scream anymore, nothing comes out. They get the needle in my arm but it doesn't go in well and the other one stabs me with another needle to my hand, right in the root of the thumb and it stings and everything stops. I still felt the pain in my arm and my hand after i woke up.