07.27.11 ♥ 0
Here I am, again on this lumpy couch, thinking of all the stuff that has happened to me in my life. From the good, to the bad, to the worse. I feel like I am lost in my mind, drifting in the clouds. It’s an unbelievable feeling when your high. But anyways, I had been missing for about four months, no one had noticed. No one cared about me or what I did. So I left home when I was fifteen and went to go live with some cool friends I had made at school. Some parents would say my friends were bad influences but to me they were my heroes. They got me to do a lot of stuff they did, including drugs. I had been hooked on all sorts of drugs. I mean I knew they were bad but they made me feel great. I couldn’t stop, I knew that it had taken over my body. It all started when I was thirteen. My dad left my mom for another woman, my mom cried herself to sleep at nights. He was her one true love, but I guess my dad got bored, and he just bolted out of the door like nothing. He was gone in a flash. That’s when my mom started to drink. She was drunk constantly, in the afternoons and in the nights. I mean, I felt bad for her but then again I didn’t. She didn’t care what anyone did, she didn’t even care about me or my sisters, or my brother. Its like we were invisible to her. She was thirty-five when I was thirteen, and she was loosing it completely. She was always yelling for no reason and didn’t do anything for anyone but herself. At that point in my life I didn’t believe two people could be together for a long time, considering what happened to my mom, so I gave up on relationships. And love. I had two sisters and one brother. My sisters names were Lulu and Bernice, my brothers name was Carlos. Both of my sisters were older than me, but not my brother. We all had to learn how to survive on our own because my mom didn’t do anything for us. I mostly took care of Carlos but my sisters took care of themselves. Lulu and Bernice stuck together and Carlos and I stuck together. Carlos was a well behaved kid, he was cute too. He would always cheer me up when I was down. He always knew how to make me smile and think on the positive side. I loved him with all my heart, no doubt about it. Then one day I couldn’t take it anymore, I gave up. Not even Carlos could change my mind. So I packed my stuff and went to go live with my friends I made at school. My mom didn’t care, and neither did my sisters, but my brother cried begged me to stay. I told my sisters to look after him, since I couldn’t anymore. And that was the hardest thing I could ever do was leave my little brother. But I was off to live my life the way I wanted to. So I called up my friends and told them to go get me that afternoon. They were happy to hear from me and so they went to pick me up. When I got to my friends apartment they told me there were no rules in the house, so I was happy, even though I was used to living like that. After a couple of weeks they were getting me to smoke with them, and I enjoyed it, it was like going into my happy place, where no one could tell me what to do, and not ever coming out. I loved it. I was doing it in the mornings, afternoons, and evenings. It felt so good to just smoke and unwind. I still went to school, kinda. I would go for a couple of days a week then skip the rest of the days, at that point it felt like it was too much work to go to school. And the days I would go to school I would go high, they never noticed. I got away with a lot of things at school; smoking, being high, skipping, being tardy. I felt like I was on top, like nothing could stop me. Being high was a spontaneous feeling, it was like being in your own world where you could do whatever you want whenever you wanted, I loved it. I did it all the time, it relaxed me. I used to think of all the stuff that has happened to me in the past and I vented my feelings to my friends. They would listen to me, and they would talk to me about their past lives too. It was interesting to hear about them and how they decided to live on their own. But anyways, paying the rent wasn’t very difficult. We would sell drugs to pay for everything we bought. We had quite a bit of money, and we would split it up between four people. Some money we had leftover we would save it. We would use it for food, rent, clothes, and more drugs. You had to be able to keep up and know what to do when you were dealing, otherwise you could get ripped off or do something wrong like miscalculate something. I used to hate dealing, it didn’t feel right, but you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. That was my motto.
The whole time I was away with my friends I never got one phone call from my mom or my sisters or brother. I was missing them very much, mostly my brother. I wondered how he looked, if he acted the same, or if he was eating enough. Also if he had a roof over his head. I missed having my family, but at the same time I hated my life in the past so I thought it was time to move on. My friends would tell me its okay and that we would get through it all. And we always did. It was great, for once I actually loved my life the way it was. I lived with my friends for about four years so far and it was great, so I decided to live with them for as long as I lived. I never did get a good education but selling was good enough for me.
