You're My Brand Of Heroin

Myrette longed for companionship. She was twenty-one with no boyfriend, spouse, or any special someone to keep her company, to keep her warm on cold nights. What's the point? She thought. What's the point of living if there's no one there to make it worth while? Many nights she tried to drink away her despair, drown her pain. But the next morning all the loneliness was still there, along with bad nausea and a bloody terrible headache. What's a girl to do?