My name is Joy, Joy Chappell. Over the top, I know, but my Mom wanted me to sound all innocent. And maybe I was, in my own way.<br /><br />Can a car stealing, pot smoking, LSD tripping chick be innocent?&nbsp;I thought so.<br /><br />Even though&nbsp;it&nbsp;was always on my mind.&nbsp;It,&nbsp;the thing we never talked about.&nbsp;It&nbsp;that Mom hid with Cover Girl and I lied to my friends about.&nbsp;It,&nbsp;making me dream that someday the light of hippie sun would shine down as we danced barefoot in meadows.<br /><br />Na&iuml;ve, I know. But when you&#39;re a kid you see the world through your own eyes. And when you&#39;re high to boot, everything is tinged with a soft mist, like an out of focus camera, and you trust people, thinking they just want to give you a ride.<br /><br />Even with&nbsp;It,&nbsp;I never knew people were truly ugly until that night. I really thought the face inside was just a mask, one I could melt away with my Kodachrome soul. But I was wrong. And by the time I figured it out, it was too late.<br /><br />I was seventeen, and I was about to die.