On Drugs....

June 7, 2009
By Kevin Pineda BRONZE, Lawndale, California
Kevin Pineda BRONZE, Lawndale, California
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It was five in the morning. The weather was very dense and dull. My father and I had woke up to go catch our flight to San Francisco. The light of his car blocked my vision like a solar eclipse blocking the sun. He yelled “Get in; we’re going to be late!” As usual I reminded myself how much of a cranky old man he was in the morning and yet I still put up with it. The sun was slowly rising. My blood was slowly circulating throughout my body. I felt it churning very thick. I put my luggage in the car and we were off to the airport. In the process of our arrival I turned the volume of my father’s radio up. I stood still, as I listened to the local radio station chatting on about drugs and their abuse. I questioned the host of the radio station. Why do you think people consume drugs in the first place? What do they benefit out of it? How can they stop? A million questions popped out of my mind that I couldn’t answer.

I had a flashback of a few years ago, when my cousin died of an overdose of cocaine. My Cousin and I were the closest out of all of my family. He and I were close because of my family like to compare everyone. Nobody like comparing me and him so he and I got along swell. He and I had a special bond in which nobody in our family could understand. We always had the same likes. He was a normal guy. We had our likes and dislikes. We played the same sports, ate the same food, and even thought the same. Until that one day… I remembered that we were at one point lying down at his house when, he took out some drugs. I was shocked I had no clue how to react, my heart quickly beated faster and faster like a drummer playing a snare. He was acting peculiar and then he offered me some. My response was “no.” I was furious at what had become of him. He had become a stranger to me. It was like I never had met him. From that point on I never heard from him. There were a few times when I wondered what had happened to him. I tried calling him but there was no answer. Our relationship hit rock bottom from then on. A few months later my aunt called me informing me that he had been found in an alley, lying down facing the sky. I wondered why he was facing the sky. It was like he was begging god for a second chance. That same thought killed me every time I thought about him. A letter was found in his coat. He basically pleaded a chance to change. He was alone for two years. I was the only one he could talk to. All his belongings were left to me. I never wanted to forget him. I wanted him to have that chance he wanted. A new beginning. I could not argue with him. Put yourself in his shoes, he was tired of consuming drugs. I really encouraged him to stop and yet he thought otherwise.

Drugs are a death wish for who ever consumes them. There is an easy ticket in the ride but once it gets out of control there is no way out. I hated my cousin for being so stubborn. Most people consume drugs thinking it is a way to forget about stress, hardships and pain. But frankly, there are a bunch of money wasting, death causing, hallucinogens that will eventually kill you. Nobody is perfect in the world and the death rate has increased because of drugs. It has affected mankind for to long and it has to end at some point. Every time I see someone on drugs I use my cousin’s death as a reference telling me “don’t be that guy”. And I hope everyone gets that chance that my cousin never got. May my cousin rest in peace.

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