I remember my first experience of drugs. It was at a house party at my girlfriend’s flat in East London. We had just argued in her bedroom because we were due to go on holiday the next morning and were yet to finish packing (I was yet to start). She thought we should pack before joining the party whereas I wanted to join the party now and pack after. I went downstairs alone. As I entered the kitchen, an extremely friendly man hugged me and said he could tell I was a great person. He then asked if I would like to taste the rainbow. I asked for clarification, and he offered me some ‘Spicy Berocca’. For some reason, perhaps because the argument had left me feeling petulant and reckless, I said yes. He handed me a small plastic bag containing a white crystal. Enjoy yourself, mate, he said. So as to be discreet, I took it to the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, I removed the crystal from the bag and inspected it. I wasn’t sure how to take it. It was about the size of a golf ball, too big t…
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