Before I learned about this new thing they got now called heroin, life was one big mess all slopped together. To me, nothing really mattered. We live, we die, and the wheels on the bus go round and round. I think Jack Nickleson said that one. Like I said before, pretty boring. I was basejumping with some buddies one day when one of them told me about a party that night.

I was on it like bees to honey.

We arrived later after taking showers and reliving some crazy jumps. When we arrived, the party was already geared up, men and women alike staggered about in a drunken haze. I planned to join them as soon as possible.

I was having a grand old time and roaring drunk when I say my buddy get up to leave. I murmered a drunken excuse to the women sitting near me and got up to follow my friend, not wanting to be left behind.

I followed him into the back room where there were many people slumped against the walls. One of them held out a needle and elastic band and slurred, “Wanta hit?”

I took the needle.