Things just happen. Even if we don't want them to, it is inevitable that there is always going to have a reaction to every action. The exact reason why I'm here. It is just a reaction to someone else's actions. But, I'm not supposed to be here. I'm only 18, I should be helping my friend pick out college dorm furniture and getting ready for prom. But, I'm in the kitchen of a rundown apartment with 3 men I don't know and a woman that goes by the name of Destiny. I have been with Destiny for almost 2 years now. She is a petite, Latino 22 year old with long, pin straight, jet black hair and she is the closest thing I have to family. We sit at the table in only our bras and underwear, and in front of us is the job we were told to do. Cutting cocaine.