Sheff - We all fall down: living with addiction

Text copyright 2011 by Nic Sheff

Epilogue copyright 2012 by Nic Sheff

Reading Group Guide and Author Interview copyright 2012 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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Second e-book edition: April 2012

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Excerpt from Hold On 1970 Lenono Music. Written by John Lennon.

The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

ISBN 978-0-316-17589-0

Sheffs journey, like his writing, is raw and compelling, heartbreaking and witty. An honest and gracious reflection about the challenges of recovery.

R ACHEL S ONTAG , author of House Rules: A Memoir

The present-tense storytelling and Sheffs authentic voice will keep readers engaged.

Publishers Weekly

Difficult to read and impossible to put down.

Chicago Tribune

An unflinching chronicle of life as an addict.

U.S. News and World Report

Raw, powerful and honest.

The Bookseller

Sheffs story takes off like a shot in the arm with a terse, honest, and spontaneous narrative.

Kirkus Reviews

For my family.

For my mom and Karen and

my dad and Jasper and Daisy.

And Charles Wallace.

And Quimby and Ramona.

Hold on, John.

John, hold on.

Its gonna be all right.

J OHN L ENNON

This work is a memoir. It reflects the authors present recollections of his experiences over a period of years. Certain names, locations, and identifying characteristics have been changed.

Dialogue and events have been re-created from memory and, in some cases, have been compressed to convey the substance of what was said or what occurred.

2002

20 YEARS OLD

Akira lived in the basement apartment of his moms house.

Actually, I didnt even know hed be there, but I knocked a couple times, and then his voice came throughsoft, always calming.

Yeah?

The bathroom window was still broken more than a year later. I could see the reflection, turned upside down, of the tall grass and the eucalyptus trees silhouetted against the darkening sky. The Presidio stretched out all the way to the beach behind me. Just forest and Army housing. Akira lived at the very edge of the city. Id always loved that.

Hey, Akira, man, its Nic.

He became suddenly visible behind the dirty glass garden side door.

Long dreads all tied together behind his head. Eyes soft and lined and smudged with black underneath. Skinny, skinny like me.

Holy shit, Nic, what the hell?

He opened the door and I stepped forward, giving him a hug. He smelled like pot and incense and something else familiar.

I always knew youd show up like this, he said, keeping an arm over my shoulder. I just had a feelin. So, whats going on? How you been doin?

My eyes looked down beneath a shadow covering the base of the door and cobwebs and things.

Great was what I told him.

I followed him inside. I mean, I knew the goddamn way.

Id been using again for about five months at that point. I was enrolled at Hampshire College, but Id pretty much done nothing my last semester there except teach myself how to shoot drugs and finally make it through all of the original Legend of Zelda. No one knew Id relapsed, though. Not even my girlfriend.

But coming home for summer break, back to San Francisco, well, I was pretty much ready to self-destruct good and proper. As much as Id tried, I couldnt find crystal meth in Western Massachusetts. Heroin, though, was everywhere, so Id gotten pretty sick on that shit. Actually, when I went to see Akira, I was trying to wean myself off opiates with a whole bunch of Vicodin Id stolen.

Opiates werent ever really my thing, though.

I mean, crystal was the drug Id fallen in love with.

It was Akira whod given it to me the first time. But, look, I was gonna find it one way or the other. I was searching. Akira just helped me find it. I woulda done the same for him. Hes one of the most incredible people Ive ever known. I sensed that about him the first time we met.

So here I am, being led back to his room, where I see the same bed and couch and Bjrk poster and record player and, actually, a drawing of mine that Id done more than a year ago and forgotten.

Since then Id been in two rehabs. At one point, Id been sober and going to meetings for over six months. As it was, it had been more than a year since Id done crystal. I mean, I hadnt done it since the last time I saw Akira.

We sat down on the bed together, and we talked and laughed and smoked a bowl.

Then I asked him, all casual-like. You still talk to D ever?

Akira looked at me, and then looked at me again.

Ha-ha, man. What you thinkin bout?

You know, if the factorys still on, or what?

He lit a cigarettea True.

He offered me one.

Yeah, he said. I think its goin. But D aint there no more. She went crazy, man, so Gavins running the place now.

Crazy?

Uh-huh, all paranoid n shit. You wanna see if Gavins around?

Sure, I said, not wanting to sound too, uh, desperate or something.

So Akira called and, yeah, the factory was still operational.

We got in the car togethermy dads car. We both lit cigarettes and drove listening to a mix tape Id made. The afternoon light was turning dull and gray as the fog slowly stretched out across the bay. The Bay Bridge kept going on for way too long, spilling out onto the different East Bay freeways like veins running in every direction.

The cookie factory was a series of warehouses with trucks coming in and out. There was a smell of cooking dough alwayshot butter and sugar. There was a code Akira had to enter to get in the big electronic gate, and then we drove around back, to the offices thatd been converted into a sort of live/work space. The work being selling drugs.

I always loved how the place just looked like straight outta some movie or something. It was like magic, exciting, full of possibilities. Of course, it also looked like the kinda place the cops would straight raid. I could see the helicopters circling, the flashing sirens, the guns being drawn. Really, the place was a perfect setup.

But not that night, I told myself. That night was protectedsacredmy night. I willed everything to be okay.

We climbed up the concrete-block stairs and then around to Ds, or, uh, Gavins door.

Akira knocked.

It was a good couple minutes before we finally heard something click. Then the door opened very slowly, and the arc of a crossbow was pushed out, the arrow sticking right over Akiras head.

Whos with you? asked Gavin.

Akira sort of crouched down lower. What? No one. Whatre you talking about?