Chasing Sophia

TW: This story has mentions of addiction, mental health, and substance abuse.

My friend, Sophia Jones, used to be the best person in the world—or at least, that’s what I believed.

She introduced me to new people, pushed me to try things outside my comfort zone, and for three years—since fourth grade—we were inseparable. I truly thought she’d never hurt me.

Her friend group was wild in a way that felt exciting, even if a little reckless. One had a nose piercing. Another constantly had a vape in their hand and would freak out if it went missing or ran out.

Sophia had one too. She barely let it out of her sight. Lately, she’d started taking these small white pills she called her “happy vitamins.” She smiled when she said it, but there was something off about that smile. Distant. Tired. I asked if her parents knew. She made me promise not to tell them.

Then one day, she handed me her vape.

“Just try it,” she said, like it was no big deal.

I hesitated. Everything inside me screamed not to, especially after seeing how much she’d changed. But her friends closed in like sharks.

“What, scared?”

“You're so weak.”

“No wonder you don’t fit in with us.”

Sophia didn’t stop them. She didn’t say a word. Just stood there, letting it happen.

That night, I cried until my face hurt. I wanted my old friend back—the Sophia who cheered me on in fourth-grade spelling bees, who shared her headphones on the bus, who laughed with her whole face. But the more I looked back, the more cracks I noticed in the memories. She always had a thing for dangerous people. Always chasing something that made her feel more alive.

Had I been blind all along?

The next day at school, I was wrecked—no sleep, no energy, just a dull ache in my chest. They noticed. Sophia and her friends saw the weakness and moved in like it was a game.

They offered me something. “It’ll make you feel better,” they said.

I didn’t know what it was. A pill and a strange-tasting drink. I almost spit it out, but I didn’t. I swallowed.

An hour later, everything blurred. The fear, the pain, the noise—it all melted. I wasn’t myself, but I wasn’t hurting either.

I told my parents later that night.

I think I passed out in the car on the way to the hospital. The next thing I remember is waking up in a white room. My throat ached, and the lights felt too bright. My parents were at my bedside. My mom’s face was blotchy from crying. My dad’s hands were clenched into fists in his lap.

“Mom? Dad?” I croaked.

My mother gasped and hugged me tight. “Oh, thank God.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. Guilt crawled up my spine. “I’m sorry.”

My dad leaned in. “Bri... who gave you the drugs?”

I looked away. “Just someone at school.”

“From school?” Mom’s voice was sharp now.

“Yeah. I mean... where else would I get it?” I tried to laugh, but it came out hollow.

“Brielle Marie Wilson,” she said, using her serious mom voice. “You nearly died. You're not in trouble—we need the truth. Who gave it to you?”

I sighed. “It was Sophia. And her friends. They’ve been pushing me for a while, ever since she started using stuff. She told me not to tell anyone, and I didn’t. I thought I could help her... but I couldn’t. I stayed up all night crying, and I guess they saw how vulnerable I was. That’s when they gave me the drug.”

I wiped my eyes. “But after I took it… Sophia looked relieved. She was kind to me again. For the first time in so long, it felt like she was my friend again. And I hated myself for wanting that.”

My mom wrapped her arms around me again, but I barely felt it. My whole body was numb.

Had I been so desperate to keep a friend that I forgot who I was? That I let her turn me into something I hated?

I wanted to scream. To throw something. To wake up and realize this wasn’t real—that it was all just some twisted dream. But it wasn’t. It was my life. And it was happening.

I cried. For hours, maybe. My mother didn’t let go.

A week later, I went back to school.

Sophia and her friends were gone. Expelled.

I sat alone at lunch. Whispers followed me like shadows. Some kids called me an addict. Most avoided me entirely. I became the girl who overdosed. The warning story.

Then one day, a new girl transferred in. Kayla.

She was kind. Soft-spoken. She didn't care about the rumors. She sat beside me at lunch without flinching. We talked. Laughed. She reminded me of who I used to be—before Sophia.

Soon, we found a small friend group. Nice people. Chill vibes. I felt like I was getting better. Healing.

One afternoon, someone in the group brought cigars. They joked about trying them, said it’d be fun. I remembered Sophia for a split second—but I pushed the thought away.

Kayla said no. Politely.

We pushed. Just a little at first.

“Come on, it’s just once.”

“Don’t be boring.”

“You’ll be fine.”

Eventually... she said yes.

That day, she had a bad reaction. It wasn’t just cigars—someone had mixed in a drug they found. Kayla collapsed.

I remember the sirens. Her pale face. The way everyone looked at me.

I was expelled. Just like Sophia.

My parents were furious. Heartbroken. They sent me to rehab. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d become another Sophia.

Story by a teen writer <3