Anna was a beautiful girlfriend of mine in Zimbabwe. She was of Greek heritage. Her uncle was one of the most successful businessmen in Zimbabwe. He owned the fanciest and most exclusive nightclub in Zimbabwe called The Archipelago.
In spite of all the trouble that Anna got into she didn’t suffer because Greeks love unconditionally. I was afraid of her uncle, as he might have blamed me for her downfall. However, Anna was corrupted long before I met her.
Anna was an addict. The most recent news I had from Anna was good, that she was married to the son of one of the richest people in Cape Town, South Africa, of the S. family. Anna had converted to the Jewish faith from her Greek Orthodox upbringing. Anna sent me her wedding photographs, and I called her.
It was the strangest phone conversation I have had in my life, because there was too much silence. I had changed, being five years clean at the time. We couldn’t carry on a conversation other than how are you doing? However, with untreated drug addiction one can only suspect the worst: jails, institutions, and death.
Anna did say she had entered a place called Phoenix House in Cape Town, and had stayed in that therapeutic community for a year. In that facility Anna had met her husband to be, the S. son, who soon relapsed after his discharge. His mother was featured in a newspaper article about the perils of drug addiction.
From the phone conversation I judged that both Anna and her husband appeared to be clean from all drugs. They had moved into a beautiful house with a view of Table Mountain, which they could call their own. Since then I have had no news of Anna other than that she lost a baby. This news came from my ex-girlfriend Valerie.
When I first met Anna I was working in the clothing store called Jeans in the middle of the shopping district in downtown Harare, Zimbabwe. This was the coolest and most fashionable store for people who could afford to buy such clothing. When I met Anna we had sex within minutes of meeting each other.
That week she was featured in the daily newspaper called The Herald with a picture revealing her butt. The photograph depicted Anna walking down First Street wearing jeans with a see-through plastic seat, exposing her tight ass. Apparently those jeans were an avant- garde fashion statement at the time, 1982.
Anna and I became lovers. I was a Wellconal addict. However, I was also using numerous other deadly drugs in addition to Wellconal. Before we knew it, Anna was addicted too. Every time I had a shot, an injection, Anna wanted one too. This was a very bad time. During this time my friend Nancy had some MDMA, which we injected.
I had run out of veins, so sometimes I would call my friend John, who had been a medic during the Rhodesian war, to come over and hit me. One of my worst drug experiences was once when I injected MDMA. Immediately the large lounge chair in my room started bouncing around.
The walls melted and I couldn’t move out of my bed for twelve hours. After hours of hallucinations I thought I was never going to come down. Also, that particular shot made a bump on my arm that exists to this day, 22 years later. Today I suspect that the MDMA may have actually been PCP, except that with the designer drugs from the early 80’s who knows what it was?
Anna was completely out of control. I would find her with other guys, the worst of guys. One time as I was making a deal at this guy’s house, Anna comes out of the closet. I say, what the hell are you doing over here and what are you doing in this dude’s closet?
She says she was getting some clothes. By this time Anna had tracks all over the place and she would do anything for Pinks (Wellconal). I brought her home, and we made love for the last time.
I was ditching Anna because she had become too uncool. She was jeopardizing my situation. I also was heartbroken that she wasn’t faithful to me, because I could see that she was all over the place, and who knows who else she was having sex with.
Even though I was as promiscuous as anyone could be, at least I was with one partner at a time. I may have had different girls every week, but when I found one that I liked I stuck with her. Anna, however, could be doing different guys on the same day.
We were shooting up in my bedroom and Anna asks for two pinks. Three pinks and you’re looking at an OD (over dose). Well, I shoot Anna up and she passes out. She is unconscious. She is not responding. I immediately think, what am I going to do with the body? What border am I going to cross? Where am I going to flee? Where can I get some money? Where’s my passport? Not again, not like David, not another OD.
So I pound Anna’s chest real hard. I keep pounding it until it’s black and blue. Then all of a sudden Ian and Nancy show up at the house intending to party. I had made the most awesome Marijuana brownies that would put people into a delirious trance.
Anna is completely nude on my bed, because Wellconal also makes you want to take off all your clothes. Anna is lying unconscious, not responding, with her chest all black and blue from my pounding. Anna has blown my high. Ian says put her in the shower, she’ll wake up.
So I put Anna in the shower and she did revive. But then soon collapsed again. Luckily she was a tiny woman. I could carry her 85 pounds, even though I was only about 120 pounds myself. So Ian says, walk her back and forth, up and down the hall. I did this for an hour. Well, Anna comes to and immediately requests a shot because as soon as she was revived I decide that I deserve another shot.
The next morning I drop Anna off at her parents’ house and give her the cold shoulder. It was extremely sad, because I abandoned her because she couldn’t handle the drugs. In spite of her being the sex kitten that she was, I couldn’t trust her, and she became a liability to my own using of drugs. Her addiction progressed as badly as mine did. I truly thought her uncle was going to come and kick my ass or have me arrested.
Anna also had the most beautiful scar across her face from falling through a plate glass window while high on sleeping pills. I didn’t learn my lesson or warnings from Anna’s sharing with me the disasters of her early childhood drug use experiences prior to meeting me. She was a lightweight in my mind at the time.
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