No take backs

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When you type on a keyboard and it appears on the monitor it is very easy to undo your mistake, just click the backspace button and it goes away just in the blink of an eye. I wish that was the case when it comes to my life. There is no such thing as “undoing a mistake”. Once a mistake is made you can learn from it and try to move on from it, but you cannot remove it or “undo the mistake.” In my childhood, I was raised by my mother... well sorta not really… my older sister, Belle, she mostly took care of me and raised me because my mom was never home and when she was home she was drunk. When I was little I didn’t know what was going on, I thought my mom was just being silly. My father, he was never in the family picture. He was locked up in prison when I was 3 years old for something I still don’t know about today. Belle just always told me that our father wasn’t a good man to people, us - his children and his wife, our mom.

Being young and innocent, I never understood how broken and complicated my family was. As I got older, I absorbed the behaviors of my family, especially how my mom acted. Belle went to college and I had a year left in High School. My sister was a mom in a tiny body. She was so strong and kept me in order to grow independent and travel on the right path in life. When she was away at school, I was alone with my drunk mom. Every few mornings,  I noticed different men leave my house when I use to walk to school. I didn’t have Belle, I didn't have a parent figure anymore or someone to go to about my family issues because I didn't know anyone who could relate to my messed up life. I was depressed my senior year in High School and I took a left turn on the straight path to success that Belle was helping me to achieve. When she was gone, that great path for my future was also gone for me... all of it, everything...GONE. I started to go out to parties and I robbed stores like CVS and Marshalls. I didn’t have any money, no job and my mother worked as a bartender and used her money on alcohol.  My mom didn’t care where I was at anytime of the day. I slept over at boys houses to smoke weed. Smoking relieved my pain in the moment and when reality came, my life was nothing but depressing.

Towards the end of 1st semester in High School, an argument occurred with me and my mother because I was sick and tired seeing all those men leave our house. I was done with the pain and the behaviors my life was surrounded by. I never received the help that I needed by a professional or at least an adult.  I stormed out of my house frustrated and I walked to my friend Tom’s house in the pouring rain. We had smoked weed and it helped me release the pain I was feeling but, I knew it would make me feel worse because the feelings come back, eventually. I didn't know why I kept smoking and making the same bad behaviors if it makes me feel worse but, I did it anyways. Our friend Chelsea came knocking on Tom’s door and said “Omg there is an insane party going on a town away lets go!” I was high and in the moment I wanted to do anything to make my mind feel better. I thought I was helping myself but in the meantime I was just destroying myself up. In Chelsea’s old, run down, white car she drove us, her high best friends to the crazy party. Do you think this sounds good? Because when I look back on it now all I can envision is trouble in big red bold wording. Chelsea pulled to the curb and had almost hit into the mailbox on the right side of her car. The three of us  jumped out of her car and quickly rushed to get inside. I was already in my loose world and then imagine adding a bunch of drinks on top of that. I was completely out of it and not myself. It was as if a demon swooped in my body and started to control me.

The drugs took over my body and the thunderstorm began. On top of the lightning,  my voice was high pitched yelling at Chelsea as she pulled my hair. I can’t tell you what we were fighting about, not because I don't want to but, because I actually cannot remember. This night I made many mistakes but not even just this night, I made many mistakes ever since Belle took off in the plane for college. This mistake right here just made the pile of books tumble to the floor. When two strong, random  boys separated Chelsea and I, it was time for me to leave. It was beyond pointless for me to stay. I got into a fight with Chelsea who is my best friend but, also my ride home. I bumped into Tom as I was going to walk home; he told me that someone gave him a car and a set of keys to borrow for the night. One problem, Tom cannot drive he doesn't have his license. Second problem, Me.  I was drunk and high, unfunctional to drive. With not one thought to my brain I grabbed the keys vigorously from Tom and told him to jump in the car with me. I  drove  in a dark path with a blurred view.  I heard sirens getting louder and louder as they got closer to me. My right foot added pressure to the accelerator. There was a big sound. My body movement was  as if I was on an upside down rollercoaster. I open my eyes surrounded by police. “Put your hands up where I can see them.” As I slowly put my hands up I saw right in front of my brown eyes my best friend… well he was my best friend. Tom, he was getting pushed by a paramedic in a stretcher with a white sheet over his body with dark, blood spots everywhere. As my hands were up in the air, I heard the policeman talk to me but all I was focused on was my best friend officially gone and that was the last time I had ever saw him. I was too scared to cry, being in shock. The next thing I know is that I'm in handcuffs in the back seat of a police car. It’s the biggest mistake in my life, something that I could never take back. I cannot have my friend back and I will always have a murder case on my history and a DWI. There is nothing I could ever do to fix this. My life will never be normal. I woke up every morning with the thought of me killing my best friend. I was in jail for 15 years. I was 17 years old when I made the biggest mistake in my life and now I'm 32 years old and still wondering to myself am I a better human being than my father? Even though I didn't really know him and I don't know why he was in  prison but, bad people are locked up and I was locked up, I killed my best friend I’m not any better than he ever was.






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Mike1 said...
today at 10:34 pm
Very proud of my girlfriend, she is a very hard worker. Outstanding story!
 
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