HEROIN MY LOVE
by LZ Hansen
I was a sweet looking child. I had a long thick mane of brown hair, that seemed to be constantly tangled, pure white skin and a pout, that kept people at bay. I was shy, withdrawn and at that age obeyed my parents…. And I had a secret. A secret I had cultivated from overheard conversations between adults, American TV shows, and later rock n roll memoirs I obsessed over. My secret was that I aspired to be a junkie, a really good junkie.
I copied the fashions of skinny straggly haired women who smoked unfiltered cigarettes and had far away eyes.
When I reached my teens and tired of the other substances I was indulging. I found heroin. It had been a fifteen year search and I was… excited. More than excited. I was turned on. I was a virgin on her honeymoon.
My new runaway boyfriend lived in a squat in Earls Court not far from my parents home. It was a teenage hangout, home, shooting gallery. I had a plan. At 5:30 Friday afternoon. I’d meet Tommy at his squat where he would have the drugs waiting. My heroin, my dream, my future.
I wanted to feel all of it, experience every moment. My life was in front of me. This was more than a love affair or a crush on a boy this was the gateway into myself, this was me, heroin was me.
Butterflies fought in my stomach, the anticipation. We sat on the floor…Tommy began to mix my hit with expert handling. He measured half a syringe of water and scooped a small amount of perfectly brown smooth beautiful heroin into a dirty spoon. With concentration and steady hands he held the spoon over a cigarette lighter, until the brown mixture almost boiled. Tommy bit off a tiny piece of a cigarette filter, rolled it between his filthy thumb and forefinger, and dropped it into the sweet mixture. With a old bent syringe he drew up my hit. Tommy tied my thin arm tightly with his leather belt and smiled at me. Holding the syringe to the light he flicked out an air bubble, and licked the tip of the needle.
I wasn’t nervous or scared I had waited for for, so long. I needed it. My lips felt loose, wet, trembling. He jammed the spike in my arm, shock at first…but… the pain felt good. I saw the blood register, thick red virgin blood swirled up into the barrel in a slow dance, he plunged the muddy heroin downward, and immediately like a blissful transcending orgasm, the heroin hit my mind, my crotch, my breasts. I could taste it in my veins feel it swirl in my wrists, my cheeks, my eyeballs, warm soft warmth.
I had had my first sexual orgasm when I was a young teenager. I was kissing and making out with a boy named Chris. He was a smart, handsome, & went to a good English public school. We were under the covers in his bed. After a long slow make out session he reached into my underpants and began to rub my clit. We touched each other softly, it was very sweet and innocent. With his fingers on my vagina suddenly I was shook. A flood, a wave of warmth and bliss curdled my blood. I was lifted into another world my eyes rolled back in my head as I came in a shocking surprise.
As Tommy pulled the spike out of my arm I sunk back against the side of the bed, limp. I felt him pull the belt from my arm and ask if “I was all right?” I opened my eyes to try and focus. I felt completely fucked. As the hours passed my mind drifted. Images flickered, snapshots, moments in my life, horrific terrifying childhood pictures sizzled in a strobe like effect …but they… didn’t bother me any longer. I saw colors, reds and gold’s. Masturbating naked nymphs danced, and uncircumcised angles played in my mind. I tripped and fell into a warm soft comforting womb and cried in the devils arms.
I saw my soul.…I was in love, truly passionately, obsessively. I had been given my wings, my first time, I was on my way…..