The Percocet Diaries — 2

Damien Hirst — “Elusive Truth — Six Pills”

One year to this date the best thing that could ever happen to me, happened. I got in a car accident. The combination of wine, rain, a sharp turn, a light pole and my dad’s tendency to speed created this miraculous event. I broke my leg in three places. Which in most cases means a great deal of pain, I didn’t have any, but I sure as hell faked it. I knew they’d try and give me some generic shit, probably made in Canada, for pain but I also knew if I kept telling them the medicine wasn’t working they’d give me better shit. They’d have to, according to my friend’s, cousin’s, boyfriend who did this two years ago after he broke his tailbone trying to ollie down some steps with his skateboard. I got upgraded to Oxy but that was so three years ago, that’s not what I needed, so I kept at it. The combination of crutches, a cast and a deep supply of Percocets propelled me from being the redhead from loserville no one knew to the redhead with PT’s that all the cool kids talked to. I ate at the cool lunch tables, got invited to parties, that kids actually went to, and I’ve gotten to give a couple hand jobs and a few BJ’s, they’re not as easy as I’d thought they’d be. Tomorrow nights the big party at Becca’s house. I’m so hoping to lose my virginity, fingers crossed.

Percocet Diary — 1