How I died...let me explain.

I knew all the dangers of Fentanyl, which shocked me all the more that I tried it…

And died.

But before you judge me, I need to explain.

I’ve always been a pretty awesome guy. No sad, feel-bad-for-me story here. My mom is encouraging; I had a green belt in karate, and my grades were a solid C+.

So on my twenty-second birthday, when I overdosed on a well-known illegal street drug, I was surprised.

But more on that later.

I liked to drink—and I don’t mean tap water; alcohol. Lots of alcohol. Any chance to disconnect from reality was a welcome invitation. And if I could mix in some weed…all the better. I know that's too much for some people to handle, but I guess I'm just built differently.

What does this have to do with my tragic death? Well, I was out celebrating with my buddy Dave when I met the most beautiful woman. Her name was Danielle—or at least, that’s what she told me it was.

Dave took me to The Ranch, a local place known for its cheap beers. The line-up out front was always long, but I didn’t mind waiting, as it gave me a chance to think of a game-plan. There were always lots of chicks in there—ready for the picking.

And this was going to be a good night; my mom gave me the perfect birthday gift…cash!

I threw on my favorite UFC T-shirt. It was XXL, making it baggy on me. Girls love muscles, and this one hides everything. They wouldn’t know how slender I was until they were in my bed.

So, after waiting for over an hour, we got in. The first thing I see is this hottie grinding against some loser. You could tell by the way she was holding his hips that she wasn’t into it. I was about to stomp over and tell him to ‘back off!’, but I was thirsty, so instead, I got a beer.

He got lucky…this time.

So now, I’m leaning against the bar, sipping on my beer, noticing this place is filled with all losers, when she comes strolling over. She had the most amazing eyes—the kind you get lost in. She was also wearing these super tight jeans, which made her ass look amazing.

But I’m not the shallow type.

“How’s your night?” I asked, glancing around like I didn’t care for the answer.

“What?”

I could tell she was into me. “Bunch of losers here tonight.”

She didn't respond to my comment, only asking me a question. “Buy me a drink?”

Well, I’m no loser…so of course I didn’t hesitate getting the bartender’s attention. “On my tab!” I demanded.

I’d be paying cash all night—but things like that impress the weaker sex.

“What you have?” the bartender asked.

“Triple vodka with coke and a Budweiser.”

Danielle watched patiently as he made the drinks, tapping her fingers on the bar top, not showing any attention to me.

“I’m Jon,” I said.

She turned to me. “That’s nice,” she looked away as her beverages slid in front. “See you ‘round, Jon.” Danielle picked up the plastic cup and bottle, walking away.

“Hold on…”

I started to follow when the bartender grabbed my shirt, pulling me back. “That will be $19.75.”

I threw a twenty-dollar bill down. “Keep the change.”

He scooped it up, rolling his eyes.

I jumped off the stool, chasing after her. “What’s your name?”

She turned. “What?”

“Just…I bought you an expensive drink.” I was stuttering. “So I thought I could get your name.”

“You can call me…” she glanced around before talking. “Danielle.”

A moment of silence lingered between us—that awkward sexual-tension type. The kind that happens in a good porno movie.

“What do you do for fun?” I asked, breaking a painfully long pause.

Danielle took a long exhale. “I don’t know, Jon. What everyone else does. What do you do?”

I had her hooked, so I played it casually. “My mom un-grounded me, so I got my PlayStation back.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

She was locked onto my every word.

“Like my mom got mad at me because I wasn’t helping out, and she was like, ‘since you don’t have a job, you can do chores.’ And I was like, ‘I do lots around here,’ and she was like, ‘no, you don’t.’”

“You don’t have a job?” Danielle interrupted. “And you live with your mom? How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

I lied.

She pressed her lips together, narrowing her eyes.

“It’s awesome,” I continued. “She does my laundry. Who do you live with?”

“My boyfriend.” She pointed to the loser she was dancing with. He looked ridiculous in his tight white T-shirt—so small his arm muscles were popping out.

He was also watching us now.

“Oh,” I was heartbroken. Having a one-night stand with her tonight was going to be more difficult than expected. “That’s cool.” I was trying to save face. “Living at home leaves extra cash in my pocket.” I pulled my birthday money out.

A grin crept across Danielle’s face. “How much is that?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know, a couple hundred.”

It was much less than that.

“I had you all wrong, Jon. Want to party with us?”

It might have taken a few witty jokes, but I was finally gaining the respect I deserved. “Sure. What do you have planned?”

“There’s a beach party going on. But you need the green to get in,” she tapped her nose. “If you know what I mean.”

I didn’t.

“Of course,” I said. “Whatever you need.”

“Jeff!” she howled while waving. “Come here.”

Jeff strolled over, giving me the stink eye as Danielle handed him the beer. Even though he was a foot taller with wide shoulders, he got lucky that I didn’t punch him in the face.

“Jeff, this is…” Danielle glanced at me.

“Jon.”

“That’s right, Jon.”

“Ok?” Jeff said, squinting his brow, taking a long sip from the beer, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Jon wants to party with us.”

I held up the wad of cash, Jeff’s eyes gleaming with joy.

“Alright!” Jeff was excited. “Now we’re talking.”

Cash makes people respect you. It’s why I always carry every single dollar I have on me.

“Let’s get out of here.” Jeff said, chugging back the rest of his beer as Danielle followed suit.

I tried to do the same, but my acid reflux wouldn’t allow it, causing me to cough, so I just placed down the half-finished bottle.

Jeff led the way to the exit. The bouncers and bartenders all knew him, shaking his hand and patting him on the back.

What a loser. Danielle could do better.

I ditched Dave at this point; he wasn’t cool enough for this party and might bring my status down.

We made our way down the sidewalk—Danielle and Jeff walked ahead, holding hands. I held back, finding the right moment to interject in their relationship.

Jeff would never see it coming.

Once out on the beach, a group sat on driftwood around a small bonfire close to the water’s edge. The light from the flames spread across the water.

“Finally decided to join,” one of them said, standing to greet us. She had a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

Danielle turned her attention to me. “Can I see the cash?”

This was my chance to show Jeff that I was the alpha male. I reached into my pocket and handed it to her like it meant nothing. There’s no way she’d go back to him after that gesture. Jeff just stood there looking…dumbfounded.

Danielle gave half the money to the women and stuffed the other half in her pocket.

“Looks good,” the woman said. “Come and sit; we are just getting started.”

Danielle and Jeff found an open spot on the log. I squeezed in beside Danielle, right on the edge of the stump, almost falling off. Danielle shuffled over, giving me more space.

“Who’s this?” the women asked, pointing in my direction.

“This is…” Danielle glanced over.

“Jon!” I replied.

“That’s right, Jon.”

“Ok, Jon,” the women said. “Why are you here?”

I glanced around the circle; everyone’s eyes were locked on me. “I'm here to make this party more exciting.”

“Is that so?”

I leaned back. “Looks like a big group of losers here.”

That should show them how cool I am compared to them.

The women moved her arm back, making a fist. I flinched, raising my hands in front of my face. But she didn’t throw a punch—she remained quiet as her brow frowned. “I have something special for you.” She held a glass pipe in front of me, grinning.

“What is that?”

“Why? Are you…a loser?”

I grabbed the pipe and the lighter. “Nothing scares me.” I spoke confidently—but I was stalling. “I once fought five guys at once…and won!”

The women shook her head. “Then go ahead, tough guy.”

The glass pipe was small in my hand, its bottom blackened from many uses. The smell was unfamiliar, but I knew it was not weed. I couldn’t overthink it. I flicked the lighter’s wheel and held the flame underneath. The white chunks inside vaporized under the heat as smoke curled upward.

I placed my lips to the pipe and took a long, deep breath. The smoke filled my lungs.

Weightlessness washed over me. My spine seemed to stretch. The aches in my arms and legs melted away. I no longer could tell if I was sitting or floating.

I exhaled slowly.

“How’s that?” the woman asked, removing the pipe from my hand and handing it to Danielle.

“This stuff makes weed feel like child’s play.”

“Fentanyl will do that.”

“Huh?”

“First time?” Danielle asked, filling her lungs before passing it along.

“Yes!” A single bead of sweat rolled down the back of my neck.

“It will send you to places you only dreamt of,” Jeff said. “Heaven made by man.” He rotated the pipe in front of his face, analyzing it.

I lay back, letting my head sink into the soft, silky sand. It was the perfect pillow. A wave rolled in, massaging the top of my hair with cool water.

Time didn't matter anymore.

“Tide’s getting high,” Jeff said. “How much longer do we have left?”

“Not much,” the woman replied, standing up to avoid getting wet.

The conversation continued, their voices fading into the distance. Another wave brushed against me, soaking my hair. I tried to sit up, but my body was too heavy.

“We should get back,” Danielle continued.

“Don’t worry about the fire,” someone else said. “The ocean will put it out.”

“Make sure we don’t forget anything. It’ll all be gone by morning.”

The muffled sounds of the group leaving drifted. I could not tell if they, or I, were moving farther away.

“Is he breathing?”

The next wave soaked my shoulders and sent a shiver through me. I half-expected to jump to my feet from the cold, but it did not bother me.

Nothing bothered me at that moment.

“Can you walk?” Danielle asked.

I tried to focus as she leaned over me, but I could not answer.

“Can you walk?” she repeated louder. “I can’t leave you here!”

Water splashed onto my face and ran down my cheeks. If the ocean wanted to pull me into her dark depths right now, I would not resist.

“Get up!”

“Someone call for help!”

“Why?”

“The new guy’s dead!”

“Just leave him!”

“We can’t do that!”

Darkness overtook me as I prepared for my fate. I melted deep into the sand, farther down through the water, sinking deeper and deeper until the world no longer existed.

Blackness.

When my eyes shot wide open, I was still on the beach. My head was throbbing, and my stomach wanted to climb out through my mouth. I scanned the area, trying to make sense of the situation. Everyone was gone except for two men, leaning over the top of me.

“You’re safe,” one said.

He was wearing a dark blue uniform with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. His shirt had Paramedic stitched on his chest.

The world spun as I tried to sit up, my chest pounding with pain.

“Easy there,” the paramedic continued. “We just gave you Narcan.”

“Why?” I responded. “I was just sleeping.”

“Son, we had to do chest compressions on you.”

I raised my head to see two large stickers on my chest attached to wires making their way to a large monitor that was beeping. “That’s your heart rate,” he said, pointing. “It was a flat line when we got here.”

I flopped back down, exhausted…but alive.

“Where’s Danielle?”

“All your friends left.”

“We were going to hook up tonight,” I shot him a stern look, “until you losers got in the way.”

The paramedics didn’t respond, instead picking me up and strapping me to their stretcher, dragging me to their ambulance.

I never saw Danielle again.

So that’s my story of the first and only time I tried Fentanyl. And yes, I died from it. Luckily, I came back to life—a second coming or a ghost reborn, whatever you want to call it.

I guess the universe has a special plan for me…unlike the rest of the losers out there.

Danielle was gone before I woke up. The stress of my near-death experience was too much for her to handle. I just hope it wasn’t too traumatizing for her. She'll always be the one that got away.

As for me, I’m still partying it up with weed and alcohol…no Fentanyl. Some losers would’ve quit everything after that, but not me.

I guess I’m just built differently.