📸 Photo

- FROM HEAVEN TO HELL -

We'd been smoking it in the room for about three hours, enjoying the absolute buzz it gave us. I felt like I was flying, when Paul suddenly started going funny, holding his chest. He was sweating like a pig, his eyes were wild and he looked scared as shit.

'My heart, my heart! I'm going! Fucking hell, Jim, I'm dying!' he gasped. In that moment, I saw true fear in him. He'd obviously taken too much, and could have overdosed.

Jimmy started panicking, saying, 'Shit, man, you gotta take him to the hospital, now!' but Paul couldn't walk, so I had to carry him downstairs and bundle him into a taxi, shouting, 'Hospital, hospital, now!'

All the way there, I tried to calm Paul, saying, 'You'll be fine, kid, you just took too much,' but underneath I was panicking myself.

We raced to the hospital and manhandled Paul into A&E. There, the nurse took one look at him and frowned. 'Has he taken anything?'

Of course, I lied: 'No, no, he's just had a few beers.'

She flashed me a withering look; it was obvious by the state of Paul's eyes, his sweaty face and his panicked attitude what he'd been up to. A fool could have seen that, never mind a trained professional.

She gave him an injection to calm him down, which worked pretty quickly. After an hour we were free to go, but the thought stayed with me: this was our first-ever experience of cocaine and it had almost killed one of us.