“H-hi…uh…um…My name—my name is David…And I’m addic…addicted to…uh, crack.” David say expectantly, the pause between his self said introduction and the ‘hello’s’ that followed seemed to last longer then the others. He wasn’t being paranoid he pause was longer. The other NA members were staring at him. He was only six-teen, looked younger, so the older more weathered addicts had every assumed reason to stare.
“My name is Cynthia and I’m addicted to amphetamines.” David inhaled and signed with relief, and mussed his light brown hair looking at the ground. He kept this eyes locked on his shoes for the rest of the meeting. It was his first meeting and he knew none of the jargon or phrases that were said.
The End of the meeting came and everyone stood, David a second or two latter, and said the Lord ’s Prayer. David had never learned the words so he just stood there. He ducked back behind the circle and the prayer’s commencement and crept towards the door.
“Is it David?” A grillzed and bearded man stepped into David’s path, blocking him from the door.
“Uh…yah,” David blushed and looked at his feet and then back up at the man.
“Well my name is Jim, I’m our GR and I’m proud that you shared today.” David stared quizzically at the man, He’d said nothing more then his name. “Step one done!” Jim said with a smile and slight chuckle. His smile widened and reveled that Jim was missing a few teeth.. “Eleven more to go.” David forced an laugh and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Jim reached out to David and handed him a small paper envelope, David took it hesitantly. “It’s a newcomer packet…well soft of,” Jim said again with the gapped smile. David read the cover. ‘Narcotic’s Anonymous is for addicted teens too!’ was written in friendly green letters. “Give it a read and I’ll see you next week.” David forced one more smile and walked past Jim and out the door.

“Hello, My name is David and I’m a recovering Crack-Cocaine addict.” He smiled holding a small silver chip with a small number one etched into its surface. It was a one year chip. This was his one year sobriety date. He ruffled his brown hair, it had become a habit, and smiled and helloed all of the attendees.
David looked across the room, week after week he saw people in the same position he was in one year ago: stuttering and mumbling their names; red faced and staring at their feet. Some came back other he never saw again. The thought mad him reach up to his chest pocket and touch the folded and ripped newcomer packet.
David looked for Jim and his smile that always seemed bright despite the many missing teeth. Jim had become David’s sponsor after David’s third meeting. David had agreed knowing now what it entailed but now grateful for the friendship. Jim was not visible to David if he was in attendance at all. So David decide to wait till the end of the meeting and ask another member if they’d seen him recently.
“Oh, honey” Jeff, the chairperson of the meeting said, “Jim was hit by a car last week just after the meeting.” Jeff put his hand on David’s shoulder consolingly “How did you not hear?”
David didn’t respond, his eyes started to water and he walked out of the room, his new comer packet falling out of his packet as he struggled with the door handle

The whine of the ambulance engine was all Shawn could hear in the front seat. He hated driving on such a small amount of sleep, but tonight was a night that it was required.
“Dispatch this is Med-10 we are en-route to wake medical, Tryon. We have an OD patient, late teens.”
“Message received Med-10; I will alert Tryon-Wake ER.” The radio crackled and the he put down the receiver. Turning off of the highway a voice called from the back carriage
“Shawn, Just found some ID, on the kid. David Johnson, 17 organ donor”
“Well not anymore” Shawn called back, using the joke as a means of coping. This patient bothered him because he had a son. Shawn’s thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched screech that came from the back; he knew that sound and hated that he was able to hear it over the siren.
“Aw shit, Shawn he’s going into asystole, lets get him to Wake fast.” Shawn swore and flipped on the siren. Pressing the gas pedal down he picked up the receiver and pressed the button to contact dispatch.
“This is Med-10, we’re running hot to Wake-Tryon and need an ER bed fast. Our OD patient is in asystole and we have no Defibrillator.” he put the receiver back, not expecting any questions from the operator. “What happened to this kid?” Shawn asked himself as he turned on to Tyron Road.