All over heroin

I never thought it would happen to me. What did I do to deserve this? I cannot live without him.

If someone knew about it, would he still be here today?

This is not happening.

These are thoughts that still go through my head four years after his death. I never could have imagined life without him. He was my father, my role model, my protector. Now he is gone.

This is not happening. It can not be true. NO, this is a bad dream.

What did I do to deserve this?

It is part of the past, so I am here to tell you my story.

My dad was my everything. When he was not sleeping or out “working late,” we were your typical father-and-son duo. I lived with him full-time for three years due to issues with my step dad. We got very, very close.

I did not know he was doing heroin until after his death. I thought everything was going great when he drove to Hilton Head Island and dropped me off at an overnight summer camp. I had the best time of my life at that camp. When it came to an end, I was heartbroken.

My mom came to pick me up because my dad was running late (at least, that is what he told us). My mom, my sister, and my brother decided to spend the weekend at my grandpa’s house in Batavia.

“I’m finally getting to spend time with my mom! This is awesome,” I thought to myself as we watched TV and then went out into the woods.

Everything was going great until my mom went outside to take a phone call. I looked out the window and saw her sobbing. My sister and I ran out to her.

She told us the call was from our uncle. We became upset too and worried about him. I remember running outside and trying to calm down by lying down in the grass.

Then my world crashed.

“Hey guys, come out here,” I hear my mom say to my sister and me. We walk out to find my aunt, my grandpa, and my mom sitting there struggling to hold back tears.

My sister and I had no idea what was going on besides the accident involving my uncle who was not very close with any of us.

“What’s going on?” I asked with sweat dripping down my forehead.

“It’s about your dad; he was in a car accident, and he has brain damage. He’s not going to make it,” my aunt said as my mom sobbed.

I scream. All I remember is screaming. I start hitting the wall and screaming.

“Why me? WHY ME?” as my sister quietly sobs next to me.

Fast forward a month and …

As we are going through my dad’s personal belongings, we find his journal and read it. The first page is dated May 28, 2008, and he wrote, “I just started heroin. I need help. It’s taking over my life. I can’t tell my family because it’ll scare them. The only way out is death.”

He started off with pills. It seemed he was always at the hospital chasing a better high.

We looked closer into the accident report and found it was not an accident.

My dad had gotten married that night. On his way home he was driving 90 miles an hour when his car went under the back of a semi-truck. With his newly wed in the front seat reclining back in her seat, she did not feel the force of the impact on her head the way my dad did. The top of his car scraped the underpinnings of the semi. He was …

All because of a stupid drug.

People may repeatedly say that this is not going to happen to them. Maybe it will not happen to you, but you never know if it will happen to the person closest to you.

So please, if you suspect any use of drugs in your family, remember to talk to them. Even the least addicting drugs can become gateway drugs for a better high.

We need to take a stand against heroin. And now.