My Final Decision

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Choices, so many choices. All life is, is a bucket full of choices, and the choices we make all lead us somewhere down the road. It’s like looking in a candy dish and seeing two kinds of candy; the candy you know you like and is safe, and then the candy that you’ve never heard of and you want to try. That leads to risks. Life is also full of risks, if you take them, and if you don’t, you’ve made a choice not to. I guess my choices lead me here to where I am today. I was contempt with eating the good candy, the one I knew I liked, until the day I decided to grab the candy that I had never heard anything about. I decided to take the risk, and the risk I took led to even more risks. So, here I am today with one final decision, which will I decide?

Decision one, the day I decided to invite people over. My mom was in Puerto Rico, and that meant I had the house all to myself. I could have stayed home and watched movies, but instead I decided to invite people over, which of course led to alcohol. Friday night came and went, then Tuesday came and my mom was still on vacation. Friday had gone so well I knew I had to repeat it, but this time I would make sure more people came and more alcohol was available. Both of these nights were risks, and I knew they were, but I took them. Of course my parents found out when my mom got back in town, and I was grounded.

Decision two, the time I snuck out. I had finally received amazing news from my parents after two long months; I was no longer on restriction. This called for definite celebration. My friends were contacted immediately and a plan was made. I asked my mom if I could go to my friend’s house for the night, however, we were really going to a party then going to crash at her older sister’s house. My mom said no. I was angered at the fact that I had just been freed and yet I was still being held as a prisoner in my own house, so I waited on her to fall asleep then I called my friend and went out with them. I should have known my mom would find out, and when I came home the next day, my mom and dad were both waiting on me. I had officially lost all trust they had in me and respect they had for me. My dad told me I was no longer aloud to live with him, and that I would be moving in with my mom for good.

Decision three, the moment I realized I needed to make a change. A week after everything with my dad happened, I realized I needed to make a change. I needed to stop hanging out with people who were only looking for trouble and start surrounding myself with those who were good people. I needed to focus on school and what I was going to do after I graduated. My priorities needed to be put back in order. For the next few months I would focus on doing all of these things.

Those were my three choices that led me to where I am right now. At this moment I sit with the gun in my right hand and my dad’s obituary in the other. Tears streamed down my face, knowing that my dad died hating me, not trusting me, and not having any respect for me. My mom was at work, and I had one final choice to make. I could give up now and not have to make any more choices or I could take a risk and try to change my life around. The only thing with this choice was they were both candies I knew nothing about. I didn’t know anything about dying and I certainly didn’t know anything about life. I had only lived sixteen years. I didn’t know which would be bad and which would be good. I guess I will still never know, but I do know that I look down on the people I love every day, and I miss them with everything in me.





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