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That night, my girlfriend told me cops were looking for me, and I should hide out at some punk house. So I stay at this guy Brandon’s house, it’s this beat the fuck up house in the ghetto, and I crash there for the night. While I was hanging out, everybody’s smoking a pipe, and I hit it too; assuming it’s weed. It was, mostly. Later, I found out it was laced with heroin.First, I was just happy to sit with everyone, but then I got really sleepy. I kind of folded up into a ball on the couch and hid my head. To me, it felt like I was on the inside of an old television; when the channel “flips” and you see it rolling over and over, and each time I closed my eyes, the momentum would increase; but each time I opened them I would come to a crashing halt that was terrifying. I could overhear people around me talking; like I was a lightweight, and that I was passed out. Truthfully, I didn’t sleep all night; I was even awake when someone took my wallet and someone else drew on me; I just couldn’t move. Later I found out the cops were not looking for me and that whole night was a total waste of time.