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Double Dropped

Double Dropped

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Published by Anthony Read
An article looking through the massive underground drug culture in Melbourne, through the eyes of one of its victims.
An article looking through the massive underground drug culture in Melbourne, through the eyes of one of its victims.

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Published by: Anthony Read on Apr 25, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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 Double Dropped 
There is a boy nailed to the wall. He looks at me with dilated pupils, accusingly. Hehas a bong in his hands, lit up by the only crack of light in this darkened room. Or is ita pan flute?The smoke makes everything blurry. Close up of the barman, sucking down his half hourly cigarette. Pan to a promoter, organising a few hits of coke on her black leatherhandbag. People lean in to take a hit. Snorting sounds all around. The silver platessticking out of the walls are blocked with people wanting to have their meetings withCharlie.Jump cut to another face, blurred. I finish my beer and drop it somewhere
insignificant. The face becomes clearer. It‟s Annette. She yells at me over the generic
techno blaring in the background, but her message is clear. The two white pupils stareat me from her open hand.I grin.* * *Rewind three years. The sticky warmth of the nightclub disappears, and I am leftshivering in the cold of a Melbourne winter. I am surrounded by shipping cartons andcontainers, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.This was the first time I had taken any form of illegal drugs. I was with a friend of mine, Ash. I am sitting on a milk carton, watching myself from across the area. Ash
tells me that ecstasy is „fun‟, a
nd that I should try some. Hesitation breeds in me. Shetells me I am with friends, and that is the best place to try this out for the first time.I take a drag from my cigarette. Ten minutes later, I see myself being hit by the tinypupil. My eyes widen, and I slip away. I remember the feeling now. Like being in aMaserati, cruising for the first ten minutes, then hitting the accelerator and speedinginto the distance.
 I smile.* * *Fast-forward three years and three months. I jolt as I come to rest in a smallapartment. There is a man sitting at a computer, leaning over, staring with tired eyes. Istare over his shoulder and watch as he types something into Facebook chat with Ash.Her typing is horrible, but I can just make out what she is saying. Translating internetchatter while squinting at a computer screen does not make for easy reading.
“I had his best interests at heart,” she says. “I love and adore Josh, and was happy for 
him to experiment with drugs, because he was with someone who would look after
“I feel the situation at the outdoor bar was controlled and considered. It was safe andfun for both of us.”
“Unfortunately, this first good experience set him up with too much confidence. Thiswas ultimately his downfall.”
 I am blank.* * *I am pulled from this scene into another, a montage of moments passed. Severalscenes of my past drug-taking fly past in quick succession. One scene stands out.It is my 18
birthday. Bright graffiti everywhere. I am walking through a black-walled nightclub, watching all the beautiful people do beautiful things. Ash is takingme through the club to a quiet place.
I am drinking some concoction out of a goon bag. According to Ash, it is „rave juice‟.
Everyone is drinking it. I want it as well.Every
one looks like they‟re having more fun than me. I want in. I want what they areon. Now. It doesn‟t matter whether it is speed or coke. Nothing matters. There is no
thought process. The little white pupils tempt me for the second time.
I don‟t remember mu
ch else.* * *The scene shifts back to the man in the apartment. He is now on the phone. I listen inclosely and can make out the voice. It is my friend Matt.
“My drug use goes back to Year Eight, at boarding school,” Matt says.
“I used pot when I was
14, except the result was shit. Usually I am quite sensitive to
any type of illegal substance, but this did nothing for me.”
 The man asks what other drugs he has done.
“Well, I did use pot more and more, and found my sweet spot. I remember go
-kartingonce, while high
on pot. That was a bizarre experience.”
“I have also done LSD, which did absolutely nothing for me. Maybe I didn‟t useenough. But ecstasy has the best effect on me, by far.”
“It is the best feeling. It is a rush, a euphoric feeling. It ma
kes me feel all lovey-
dovey. But there is the come down, which is normally horrible.”
“There is always a pay
 I nod.

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