David’s laugh thundered through the shack. He sat on the ground leaning over a small glass table cluttered with a few bags of cocaine, syringes with heroin, and nugs of pot. The radio blasted his favorite band, The Misfits. He sat alone, eyes red and pupils dilated. His messy black hair melted onto his sticky tan face. He leaned over again, snorting some freshly divided up cocaine. He laughed again. He didn’t care what the drugs did to his body, He enjoyed the feeling of the high. He loved the adrenaline rush and he loved the feeling of his great escape from reality. After so many years of going hom to an empty house, laying down in an empty room and letting the darkness from out and within consume him, He was glad he escaped the cruel routine. His eyes blurred, and he yawned, slowly falling over and passing out on the floor.