HELL AND BACK

Nelly Elayoubi Tells How One Teen's Road To Redemption Was Blocked By a
Morass Of Booze, Drugs, Prostitution

Jessica Weihrich walks up and down Cumberland St. She's skinny, weighs
about 80 lbs. Her teeth are yellow and rotted -- she hasn't brushed them in
years. Her clothing is tattered, her black hair frail and thinning. But
none of it matters.

Jessica needs to get high. Jessica needs drugs. Jessica needs cash.

She'll get her cash by hooking on the downtown streets of Ottawa.

She is only 16.

"I was always high. If I wasn't high, I was looking for drugs, because when
you're not high, you're sick," Jessica says, sitting on a plush leather
couch, her knees tucked to her chest.

Looking at Jessica, now 17, you might think she's like any other teen.
She's wearing jeans with sneakers, a three-quarter sleeve cotton shirt with
a few silver rings on her fingers. Hanging on her neck is a chain with a
silver cross. Her stepdad gave it to her the first time she told her story
at a rally in Smiths Falls.

She's going public with her tale because she wants to help teens avoid
following in her footsteps.

The story starts when Jessica's in Grade 8. She experiments with sex. She
sleeps with older guys and she's not careful about it.

At age 13, she becomes pregnant. Eleven weeks later, she has an abortion.

SKIPS SCHOOL

That summer, Jessica's confidence and self-esteem drop drastically. In the
fall, she starts school at Ridgemont High, but it's rocky. She skips
classes and withdraws from friends.

She's drinking so heavily that even the smell of booze makes her nauseous.
She spends a lot of time downtown, hanging out with street kids she befriends.

"I just thought they were interesting. I didn't think it would go any
further," Jessica says.

But it does.

Jessica meets a girl who's selling PCP. Jessica buys some and likes it. She
starts by taking "bumps" of PCP every now and then, but eventually can't
stay away from it.

One day, while sitting on a bench by the Rideau Canal with a boyfriend,
Jessica overdoses. Her speech is so slurred it takes her a week to start
talking properly again.

She swears off booze and drugs. It's a pledge that doesn't last long.

Jessica's boyfriend leaves to live with his dad on the East Coast. She
tries to follow him, but her mom, Heather Hilts -- with the help of
Montreal police -- catches her while she waits for a bus in Montreal.

She's taken home, kicking the back of the car seat all the way. Back in
Ottawa, Jessica goes back to hanging out with street friends. She scores a
deal on morphine, pays $10 for a pill. She crushes it, takes a snort and
starts to feel really good.

"It's like you have no worries. You feel mellow, euphoric."

She's using daily, but it isn't enough to get high and she has to buy more.
But it's getting too expensive. She needs a quick high, but from something
that's cheap.

Jessica turns to heroin.

One night, in the basement of her parents' house, a friend -- also a heroin
addict -- injects Jessica for her first time. She's 14.

"It was this rush. From that first time I tried it, I was a full-on
addict," she says.

The next day, Jessica -- the same girl who once threw up in a doctor's
office from fear of a blood test -- gives herself the needle.

She breaks down crack with vinegar and injects her veins so often they
become hardened.

Not able to shoot up crack anymore, Jessica starts smoking it, saving her
veins for morphine.

It doesn't take long for her mother to find a used needle in the basement
and confront her daughter about it. Jessica has two choices -- the
Children's Aid Society or rehab.

IN AND OUT OF REHAB

Jessica chooses rehab. She's in and out for a couple of years. When she
turns 16, and soon after leaving rehab at Hope Place, Jessica takes off to
Newfoundland to join her boyfriend. They travel the East Coast together for
a month before coming back to Ottawa. They need more drugs, and travelling
makes it hard to feed an addiction.

Jessica sleeps on sidewalks, in an abandoned house, and even in a gazebo in
the park. She stays at shelters.

"It didn't matter the drugs I did. I could die and I'd say 'at least I died
high,'" Jessica says.

Finally, Jessica decides it's time to try rehab again. In the fall of 2003,
she enters the Alwood Treatment Centre in Carleton Place, only to plot a
way to get kicked out. She's consuming hair products just three months later.

"I lost my motivation after a while and said 'screw it.' "

Her mother takes her to Kingston for detox. Again she bolts, returning to
the streets of Ottawa.

SELLS HER BODY

Jessica quickly goes back to her old ways, shooting up and smoking crack.
But the money still isn't easy to find. So she starts to sell her body.

At 16, she's working a corner on Cumberland St., charging $20 for sex. She
realizes that at her age she can make more money. She ups her rates to $200
for a half-hour and $350 for an hour.

She lies about her age, telling clients she's really 18.

She loses count of how many men she's had, but says it's easily more than 300.

Meanwhile, with a picture of Jessica in hand, her mom scours the downtown
streets, asking anyone if they've seen her. Her mom wants to know if
Jessica's still alive.

"You go to bed wondering, 'Is she dead? Is she cold? Did someone kidnap
her? Did someone rape her?' " Heather says.

The turning point comes that June, when a male friend beats her up and
Jessica ends up in the hospital.

After he threatens to kill her, Jessica calls home.

At 11 p.m., her mother, now living in Smiths Falls, drives downtown to pick
up her daughter. Her teeth are rotted, her clothes are filthy, she weighs a
measly 80 lbs.

"I probably would have died if I stayed (on the streets) two more months,"
Jessica says.

The next day, Jessica enrols in a methadone clinic in Kingston, where her
recovery begins. It's the day Jessica says saved her life.

A week later, her mother, who had never been a church-goer, attends
Manotick United Church. It's a life-changing event, and one she wants to
share with her daughter, a place where the two of them can belong.

The next week Jessica joins her mom. They've never looked back.

Jessica is part of the church's youth group and shares her story with other
teens. Her message is simple: Stay clean, stay safe.

"I feel better now even more than before I started using," Jessica says.

Jessica continues to turn her life around. She holds only one Grade 9
credit and is currently doing correspondence courses at home. She hopes to
one day get a high school diploma.

She still takes methadone daily as part of her treatment and recognizes her
addiction is an illness that will always be with her. Her arms still show
the scars and she has a black hole on one arm.

"It's always going to be me, a part of my life. No matter how long I'll be
clean, I'll always be a recovering addict."