February 18, 2011
By Anonymous

January 21, 2011

My Mistake

January 21, 2011
Dear Edwin,

I’m not sure if you realize how important you are to me. You’re not just my big brother, you’re my best friend and my inspiration. You have helped me to change big time. I appreciate how you took the time to talk to me when I needed you. I know you understand me and that you know how hard it is to be a teenager in this city. You would always tell me that if I wanted to be somebody in life, I couldn’t be messing up because that wouldn’t get me anywhere in life.

Edwin, I know you were disappointed in me. I was honestly changing my life around and that stupid little thing I did killed it all. I lost all your trust all over again. It broke my heart when you didn’t talk to me anymore. From that point on, I found no reason to live at all. I swear it killed me inside. I felt like I couldn’t go on. I disappointed our mom and dad like no one ever did. I remember crying in your arms the day you came home from college. I look up to you like no one else. You graduated from high school and you’re going to a good university.

I never had a chance to really tell you everything that happened and how I got myself into so much trouble. It all started on a Tuesday morning at Virgil Middle School in 8th grade. It was first period Science class. My friend was sitting at the table next to me. We were about to start our warm-up, when my friend asked me to hold something for her because she didn’t carry a backpack.

I asked innocently, “What is it?”

She replied, “Ecstasy pills, I have 10 and a half of them.”

I looked at her, shocked, and exclaimed, “Dude, you’re beyond stupid! What the f---?!? Why would it occur to your head to carry that in school?”

She responded casually, “Just carry them, okay?”

Me, like a stupid person, agreed. Edwin, I know you would think I was so dumb, but I put them in my bag anyway. The day went on normally. I went to my next classes and then to brunch. On Tuesdays, we came out early, so we had brunch instead of nutrition or lunch. I had even forgotten I had them on me. I was trying to be a good friend by carrying them.

Later that day, I was heading to 6th period and my friend told me that the teacher was looking at people who sat in the back table in my 6th period class. That’s where I sat. Someone had tagged ‘FLAKA,’ my nickname since 6th grade when I got jumped into a crew. I was so stupid and immature in 6th grade, thinking crews and gangs were cool and everything. Eventually with your guidance, I grew out of it, but I still kept the nickname.

When I entered the class, I sat down and I took out my binder. The teacher was going to the back and she saw I had tagged FLAKA on it in big letters.. She snatched the binder and my bag from the desk. She was looking through my bag and all of a sudden, she popped out with all the pills in a bag. Everyone was staring at me. She told some kid in the class to go get Officer Zavala, the school cop. She took me out of class and we stood in the hallway waiting for Officer Zavala. Moments later, he came up to me with an angry face and the teacher showed him the drugs. From there, he took me down to his office.

He asked me, “What is this Ms. Sanchez?”
I told him the truth. I wasn’t going to lie to him.

He asked, "Do they belong to you?”

“No,” I replied.

“Well, then, whose are they?”

I didn’t want to say. I didn’t want to be known as a rat, but eventually I confessed that they belonged to my friend. I told him who the girl and they called her in. She admitted that they were hers.
Then he sat us in the room and my friend kept telling me sorry because she had gotten me into some very deep s--- . I was scared out of my mind because I had changed so much and stopped getting in trouble and all of it was a waste time because my last two months of 8th grade year and I get into some deep as s---. Afterwards some other cops came and talked to us. They read us our rights and...

Click! They handcuffed us. I realized this was no joke. It was all real. I had completely f----- up my entire life.

We walked out of school in handcuffs and they put us in the cop car. We were heading down town and I was just looking out the window and the girl next to me didn’t stop crying. They took our fingerprints and pictures.

One of the cops asked me how I ended up here and he asked why I was crying so much and I said, “ Because I’m thinking about my brother.”

He asked, "Is he dead?”

I said, “Hell no! If he were dead I would have killed myself!”

“Then why are you thinking about him?”

I responded, “I’m thinking about how disappointed he’s gonna be when he finds out about this. I’m going to lose all his trust and he probably won’t talk to me. My brother means everything to me, more than anyone in this world. I can’t see life without him. He gives me advice when I need it. I go to him for everything.”

The cop was Asian and tall. He had big tatto’s on both of his arm’s. The room was so plain. -The walls were gray and white, no color. They handcuffed us to the chair so we wouldn’t run off. There were huge fences inside the building. Everything was secure like if it was a prison, But, it was kinda of a prison.

That cop was such a jerk. He started saying all this stuff to make me feel bad. I cried even more. Edwin, I told the cop that you were my everything, how you mean the world to me and if it weren’t for you, I would probably be addicted to drugs.

After that stuff happened the cops took us back to school and I got suspended for two days. After my suspension, we had a meeting with the deans and counselors and they gave me an OT and a ticket. I was getting kicked out of school! I started crying. I was thinking, “I only had two months left at Virgil and now it’s all over.”

I stayed in the Dean’s office for two weeks straight because they couldn’t find any other schools to take me. I was bored out of my mind. I was scared I was going to get locked up. I was completely losing my mind. Finally they transferred me to Bancroft Middle School, far away from our house.

My best friends, Esther and Joshua, were so disappointed in me, that I had changed my whole life around and yet here I did it again, messing up over something stupid.

Edwin, now I’m in 9th grade, at the same high school you attended and graduated from. I have completed everything for the courts, my 40 hours of community service, coming out clean on my drug tests, and staying out of trouble. It still hurts me to think about how badly I disappointed my family. I feel hate and anger towards myself at times. I have even thought about killing myself and doing drugs again and just doing something stupid. But, that’s when I think of you, Edwin.

I hope that you can now see how much I’ve changed since middle school. Even though I still have a lot of lessons to learn, I went through some difficult ones already. I’ve learned not to be a follower, always be a leader. Any little thing I do can ruin any dream I had or am planning to have, I Always think about what I do now and how it might affect me. I'm so happy that I’ve turned my life around. It was the best for me and my family and my friends. Even though at times I still think about running off or doing something stupid, knowing that I’m going to get in trouble and still wanting to do it. But that’s when I think about you or I call my boyfriend, Jonathan. He’s also like a best friend to me. He talks to me and always knows what to say. He knows what I’ve been through. At time’s I just need someone close to talk to or to be there for me. I’m so lucky I have you, Edwin.

I hope that now, I have regained your trust. I’m in a great school, writing my story so other people realize that if you mess up, you can still change your life. I love you, Mom, Dad, and Yamileth so much. Even though I’m still immature and I have that temper that pisses you guys off. I’m learning everything day by day and slow by slow.

I’m doing my best now, I’m sorry for everything I did to hurt you guys. I regret it everyday. I’m so grateful I have all of your love back.


Your Sister Yocy

The author's comments:
My letter is to my brother about how I lost how his trust. I wrote him a letter about how I got caught with drugs and how it all happened.

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