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Heather is pregnant again. This time, she's decided to keep the child, as well as her drug habbit. It will be born a meth child, probably underweight, maybe permanently brain damaged. Her boyfriend and her will have no place to live. If the child is lucky, it will be taken away and given to foster parents.
Heather wasn't always like this. Once, Heather had dreamed of being a fairy princess, who lived up high in her castle. She had a boyfriend, who she met in her kindergarten class, who she swore she would marry. She had two best friends. Plastic tea sets and Disney movies. Heather was Daddy's little girl.
Heather was loved. Her parent's were not abusive parents, by any means. They adored her like no other, even as they fought and screamed when they thought Heather couldn't hear. It bothered Heather, but her parents said that sometimes, even grown ups don't agree on things, and Heather had to strong, and understand that just because they fought, didn't mean they didn't love her.
Heather's daddy took her to Disney Land. When Heather turned thirteen, her mommy took her to Victoria's Secret, and showed her all the different types of pretty undergarments she could wear for when she got married. Her parents took her dress shopping for her first high school dance at the Catholic girls school, where they would be having a dance with the boys school down the street. Heather felt like a princess.
Heather was thirteen. Her date took her out back, and showed her something that looked like salt in a bag, and told her to try just one puff. Heather had never really heard much about drugs before, and Heather knew she couldn't get addicted. She was better than those public school kids. She was rich, her parents were together. Heather was daddy's princess. And Princesses never get addicted.
So Heather tried.
Now, Heather is sixteen. She ran away from home when her Daddy found her pipe in her sock drawer. Daddy didn't understand. Heather was a Princess, of course she wasn't addicted. She would be fine soon, she just did it because she wanted to. The drugs made her see how unfair her parents were, and the world. The only person who understood her was her boyfriend, who kept up a good supply so long as she stole the cough medicine for him to make it from.
Heather moved in with him, and was soon pregnant. After numerous pregnancies, miscarraiges and at-home abortions with coat hangers and punches, she decided to try to be a real woman and keep it. And as she made that decision, she lit the flame under the pipe and inhaled.
Heather was a good girl, from a good home, who wanted to be a princess. Her parents dreamed of her being happy, but know that will never come true. Heather will be dead soon, living with a dealer and cook. Heather the princess had a fairy tale that went horribly wrong. For instead of finding a prince or even herself, Heather took the hand of the wicked witch, and her perfect world crumbled.
All right...how can I improve this, or make it more affective?
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