While we stood there for an hour, it came out that D was HIV positive, and i felt sick just thinking about it. I mentally checked a note to never shoot up around her again. After we left the area my wife and I spoke to each other in english and agreed that we needed to go ASAP. We got the call as we were walking and we jumped in a Taxi and headed into one of the most nerve wracking situations of my life.
We went to our pick up location and searched for our drugs. It took over an hour, and at any moment we could have been arrested as we were out in the open and looking underneath a storage container, feeling for it. We kept calling the Tajiki back complaining, and he kept telling us over and over to check the same fucking place. I had visions of doing time in the Butyrka prison, drinking toilet wine and hanging myself with my underwear. (continued in part 2)
Finally, we got it. D put it in her friend's "fanny pack" as it is called in USA, and we made the long trek back. No taxi would come, and "unnoffical taxi" (a driver with no taxi license) would not stop for us, because the junkies were so busted looking. We finally hopped on a bus, and on the bus D started to talk LOUDLY about wanting to suck cock and drink cum and bathe in cum and be fucked by tons of men and feel them jack off on her face. an old Babushka sat shaking her head in disbelief. Russian people hate open displays of sexuality, and older people from Soviet era hate it even more.
This became the longest bus ride of my life, and I was ashamed to be around such a person acting this way in public. Had I not just waited so long to score, I'd have slapped her.
Finally, we got off after another hour and it had now been something like 5 hours since we met them. the day was wearing on and on. When we got back to D's apartment, they took out this massive back of smack and I was floored. It was a light yellowish-tannish number 4 heroin, adulterated only slightly. I cut up half the 3 grams and handed it to them and they smiled as I said "HOLY SHIT I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MUCH SMACK BEFORE".
They implored me to shoot up; but I refused, and we made the long trek back to Kuurskaya to our Hostel. I kept wanting to stop and shoot up, but my wife was angry and said "after all this do you want to chance it now?" and made me wait. Finally back home, I searched for a vein and an hour later was bleeding all over the floor after not finding one. thankfully no one was at the hostel at the time. i guess 12 years of injecting does some harm to veins....
Finally I found one on the crook of my arm, and pushed it in. I pulled out the vein, and suddenly an orgasm of warmth washed over my chest. my eyes closed. I sighed deeply. The whole day, my employer, the fake deportation notices and corruption, the cops chasing me, it all washed away. The heroin was profoundly strong; not as good as in SEA from what i can see, but it had to be at least 50% pure, because ive never had a matchead sized piece fuck me up so hard and put me on the nod.
I overdosed that night; i woke up to my wife crying. She guilted me. The next four days were a mix of ecstasy and hell, being as i had severe histamine reactions to the injections, and my wife hated to see me high. It culminated with the drunk calling the police on me, and me narrowly missing them show up to search my bag, finding my needles but not my drugs. Russian cops aren't smart enough to know what naloxone is but my bag was a tell tale sign of drug use. The cops searched my wife and I got up to her later across the city, having ran away from her after a particularly bad fight broke out between us.
We decided to make haste and leave the hostel. My wife flushed the heroin down the toilet, and I considered beating her. I spent the next night kicking lightly, sweating and unable to sleep. I drank 2 bottles of vodka to ease the kick but to no avail. Suddenly the world seemed that much bleaker to me without drugs. We went back to our home town of Astrakhan where things were cheaper and there was no heroin, but my thoughts were obsessed of the drug; and my depression increased to near suicidal levels.
It was then that I decided to make Aliyah, and immigrate to Israel.
We went to our pick up location and searched for our drugs. It took over an hour, and at any moment we could have been arrested as we were out in the open and looking underneath a storage container, feeling for it. We kept calling the Tajiki back complaining, and he kept telling us over and over to check the same fucking place. I had visions of doing time in the Butyrka prison, drinking toilet wine and hanging myself with my underwear. (continued in part 2)
Finally, we got it. D put it in her friend's "fanny pack" as it is called in USA, and we made the long trek back. No taxi would come, and "unnoffical taxi" (a driver with no taxi license) would not stop for us, because the junkies were so busted looking. We finally hopped on a bus, and on the bus D started to talk LOUDLY about wanting to suck cock and drink cum and bathe in cum and be fucked by tons of men and feel them jack off on her face. an old Babushka sat shaking her head in disbelief. Russian people hate open displays of sexuality, and older people from Soviet era hate it even more.
This became the longest bus ride of my life, and I was ashamed to be around such a person acting this way in public. Had I not just waited so long to score, I'd have slapped her.
Finally, we got off after another hour and it had now been something like 5 hours since we met them. the day was wearing on and on. When we got back to D's apartment, they took out this massive back of smack and I was floored. It was a light yellowish-tannish number 4 heroin, adulterated only slightly. I cut up half the 3 grams and handed it to them and they smiled as I said "HOLY SHIT I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MUCH SMACK BEFORE".
They implored me to shoot up; but I refused, and we made the long trek back to Kuurskaya to our Hostel. I kept wanting to stop and shoot up, but my wife was angry and said "after all this do you want to chance it now?" and made me wait. Finally back home, I searched for a vein and an hour later was bleeding all over the floor after not finding one. thankfully no one was at the hostel at the time. i guess 12 years of injecting does some harm to veins....
Finally I found one on the crook of my arm, and pushed it in. I pulled out the vein, and suddenly an orgasm of warmth washed over my chest. my eyes closed. I sighed deeply. The whole day, my employer, the fake deportation notices and corruption, the cops chasing me, it all washed away. The heroin was profoundly strong; not as good as in SEA from what i can see, but it had to be at least 50% pure, because ive never had a matchead sized piece fuck me up so hard and put me on the nod.
I overdosed that night; i woke up to my wife crying. She guilted me. The next four days were a mix of ecstasy and hell, being as i had severe histamine reactions to the injections, and my wife hated to see me high. It culminated with the drunk calling the police on me, and me narrowly missing them show up to search my bag, finding my needles but not my drugs. Russian cops aren't smart enough to know what naloxone is but my bag was a tell tale sign of drug use. The cops searched my wife and I got up to her later across the city, having ran away from her after a particularly bad fight broke out between us.
We decided to make haste and leave the hostel. My wife flushed the heroin down the toilet, and I considered beating her. I spent the next night kicking lightly, sweating and unable to sleep. I drank 2 bottles of vodka to ease the kick but to no avail. Suddenly the world seemed that much bleaker to me without drugs. We went back to our home town of Astrakhan where things were cheaper and there was no heroin, but my thoughts were obsessed of the drug; and my depression increased to near suicidal levels.
It was then that I decided to make Aliyah, and immigrate to Israel.