When I mention heroin any number of shady images may enter your mind: grunge-rock icons of the ‘90’s trying to manipulate a guitar with scabbed up arms, that picture of Lindsay Lohan you saw on a tabloid magazine in 2007, maybe your cool older sister forcing you watch Requiem for a Dream when you were 8 years old because it was “totally edgy”.  No matter how glamorized or how grimy, the image that comes to your mind still probably feels pretty foreign to the soccer moms, suburbs and Subarus of Manchester, Missouri. A few years ago you might have been right, but Heroin has since adapted, and today that climate of suburbs and Subarus is exactly where it thrives.

A silent assassin, Heroin has steadily crept it’s way into St. Louis County homes and earned its title as one of the #1 killers of suburban teens (CLAAD) . It was as early as 2008 when the annual number of opioid related deaths in St. Louis first topped 200, but at the time there was no way to predict the 90% increase that would add up to a total number of 2,239 heroin related deaths in the seven years between then and now (NCADA-St. Louis Area). When it first started in ‘08 it was mostly a product of science– an increase in chemical knowledge that allowed production of heroin 10 times as pure as before (and that would effectively get kids addicted 10 times faster). Take that and add to it the surge in availability that followed in the St. Louis area soon after and you have yourself a potential heroin-deathtrap: A loaded syringe in the middle of the high school hallway.

Any number of things can trip kids up and send them tumbling, veins first, onto that needle. Often it begins simply, with good intentions and a prescription for Vicodin. We, as teenagers, know the recklessness of our own nature: we try to make it before the red light, we go to great lengths for a touchdown, we climb our way up onto rooftops just because we can. And, we get injured accordingly. When we do, we go to doctors, get our bones set, surgery, stitches etc. and before we leave, we get a scribbly little love note from the doctor promising meds to kill the pain. Whether you get Fentanyl, Vicodin, Morphine or Percocet, you’re getting opiates (heroin’s fancy, expensive cousin) and chances are you’ll hit it off. About 4 out of 5 of all heroin addictions began with prescription pain pills (SAMHSA) . Suburban teens get hooked and when the doctors stop prescribing they make the switch to heroin because it’s cheaper and easier to get.

 Although there are a million and one other ways for heroin to make itself acquainted with today’s youth, transitioning from prescription opiates is the most preventable, and arguably, most tragic of them all. Careless, prescription-happy medical professionals in the St. Louis County area are legally doping up local teens in a state that won’t do what it takes to save them when they OD. What that means is that Missouri is one of the 22 states still holding out on the implementation of  ‘Good Samaritan Laws’ that grant immunity to users who seek help for an overdosing friend. In doing so they are not just condoning, but contributing, to the deaths of their young citizens.

Harsh realities are abundant in the world of hard drugs and one of those realities is this: when users shoot up together and one of them overdoses, no one is going to call for help if it means getting possession charges. So many of these dead St. Louis teenagers were with friends at the time that they OD’d, friends who could have prevented their deaths, but who fled out of fear. It isn’t right, but it happens, and the state of Missouri can no longer continue to ignore that fact as the number of dead teens climbs it’s way towards 3,000. These ‘Good Samaritan Laws’ provide a solution to this reality by granting an adjustable level of immunity to drug users who dial 911 immediately upon witnessing an overdose. This system has proven to be extremely effective in the 28 states that have adopted it, and it may be St. Louis County’s only hope to keep teenage heroin users alive until a long-term solution to this suburban heroin fad can be reached.

So what does all this mean for us here at South? Try replacing those images of has-been movie stars and weepy martyrized musicians with real people: that funny guy in your bio class or your friend from the soccer team or your favorite cousin. Allow yourself to understand what an ugly creature heroin is and understand the legitimacy of the threat it poses to those around you. Look out for yourself, look out for those around you, and if you get injured, please, please, just take an Advil.