This is a story about a girl. I don't know her name, nor do I wish to.
This is a story about a drug. Specifically, P (pseudoephedrine, known in the USA as meth).
This is a story about a victim. It's a short story, because I don't know it all, nor do I want to know it all. There is no compassion in me for the central actor of this little drama.
It was told me by an acquaintance, a woman (friend of a friend). This girl is/was one of her friends.
Said friend called her up on the evening of 30 December - the day before New Year's Eve. She did not answer that call, for reasons that will become evident.
Nor the text.
Nor the next two calls.
Nor the next three texts.
Said friend goes through this all the time. Her friend is hooked on P - her life consists of highs and lows.
Payday is Wednesday. Pick up some drugs, fly until Saturday. Then they run out.
Sunday and Monday, she's coming down down down. Tuesday she crashes. That's when the calls and texts come out.
"Help me! I need you to pick me up from X location! Please!"
Blah, blah, blah.
For all I know, begging for money is involved too. I didn't inquire. That's simply the general pattern of these types of leeches. An endless cycle of up, down, splash.
So long as they can play the victim card - so long as they can get your attention - so long as they can get your help and sympathy - so long as they get their supply (both drug and narcissistic).
The beast will always try to keep that hook in you, one way or another. "I thought we were friends. After all we've been through. How can you treat me like this. After all these years." Etc.
You can find these hooks in any screwed-up situation where someone tries to play the victim card.
I am not responsible for your fucked-up choices in life. I am not responsible for your insanity. I am not responsible for your twisted needs. I am not responsible for your selfish desires. I am not responsible for you in any way, shape, or form.
Try to hook me, if you wish. I have no compassion as a handle for you to grasp me by.