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  • Writer's pictureCounty Lines


I am a junkie. Drug addict. Whatever you want to call it. I am addicted to drugs. Morphine to be precise.

I am currently sat in the bathroom after the dawning realisation occurred to me in the early hours of this morning that I’ve been trapped. Cuckooing the police call it. This is when a group of drug dealers prey on a vulnerable person and take over their home to use as their base; somewhere to conduct their illegal activity from. So when the inevitable happens and the police decide to bust them, the blame falls squarely on the person who’s home they are using. Not on the drug dealer. What about the runners? The guys who work selling the drug dealers product…they are blameless too, because they are protected by their age. If a dealer hires a minor to work for him; the police are limited in what they can do. Minors are very rarely charged. I’m angry with myself. Angry because I didn’t see what was happening until they had moved themselves in, taken over my flat and turned it into their base to deal drugs from. I DIDN’T REALISE THAT WAS HAPPENING EVEN THOUGH I AM HERE!  When I realised what was going on, at first I fought to shut them down and tried my hardest to force them to leave. But I failed. They had moved in, taken control, were dealing drugs from my flat, hiding their drugs and money and knives and phones in my flat, were inviting their friends over to my flat… and in turn I became their personal skivvy. Then I find out that they are stashing drugs in my flat. But I can never ever find the hiding place and when I beg and plead with them not to do this, they tell me they don’t give a shit. It’s not their home and if the drugs get found I get blamed. I started getting poorly I started losing my hair, my skin would burn, my ankles and feet swell up and I’m now skin and bones I’ve lost that much weight. I cannot keep food down and I’m persistently sick. I am such a nervous wreck that I shake and tremble with fear and anxiety. It’s pathetic. I get paid nothing and even if they offered I would never accept. Who accepts drugs in the form of payment for letting drug dealers use their home? I would prefer to cluck rather than stoop that low. They have taken my bank cards and withdraw every penny that goes in to my account. They use my cards to order items online like knives, which means I have bank statements with purchases from On numerous occasions I have had to transfer money to who I think it’s the big boss, the Kingpin. Then they laugh in my face and tell me “it doesn’t look good does it? You have transfers to our big boss, statements with purchases from online knife stores, if you get raided the drugs will be found in your flat, we are only 19 year olds and you 30 who is going to believe that we are the drug dealers and you are the victim?”. I hope that there’s some way of the bank being able to show who draws money out of the cashpoint because it will never show my face. They draw the money out. Because I will never be able to prove that it was them using my cards online. As if that wasn’t bad enough, from the very beginning they took over my phone sending texts to themselves from my number making me look like I’m complicit with their criminal activities. They got a pair of keys cut to my flat. They made me insure and tax a car in my name that they bought because certain members of the gang don’t even have licences. At one point the boss was driving the car and got pulled over by the police. He believed he was a named driver on the insurance but I never put him on so now they’re taking him to court and I am in so much trouble. Every day since then he has made my life hell. He got one of his friends to forge the insurance documents with his name on it but it hasn’t worked. So he smugly told me “oh well remember it’s your insurance so you will get the blame”. I finally worked up the courage to report the car stolen online today. Not that that will make any difference I because I have been sat here now for three months and contemplated making anonymous reports to crime stoppers with all these details in and nobody has come and rescued me. But im not a grass. No WAY. Still; every night before I sleep I pray that the police will decide to do a raid on this place. I’m tempted to get in contact directly and beg them to help me. But I follow the rules. No snitching.

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