When I think back I can remember that I wasn’t always this way. I started doing heroin six years ago. At first it was only something I did to pass the time between jobs; I was working two at the time. Before long it turned into something that I started doing more and more. I remember that it let me forget everything else that was going on and that is what I really liked. My dad died when I was 19 years old. He was a pastor on a missionary trip in Africa. He caught Ebola there and he died because the CDC says anyone who catches it can’t come home. I can picture him now and I know he didn’t doubt his God, not for a moment. I wish I could feel that way. I started getting fucked up a lot more after that. I couldn’t hold any job anymore and so I just started selling shit that I had lying around. Now I’ve got nothing.