“Your son has Leukemia. I’m sorry, but if we don’t operate, he won’t live to see age seven.”

Ahmed had spent his entire adult life getting his family to this country, the land of freedom and opportunity, but his only son would never see it. His son would be confined to a hospital room, too sick to play, yet not able to afford the surgery he needed so badly.

As the tears began to trickle down his face, Ahmed thought, “Why has fate forsaken us?”

On the subway ride home, Ahmed found himself staring off into the blur that was the view outside of the window, but then one short sentence brought him back to reality.

“Dad, am I going to die?”

Ahmed grabbed his son and shook him exclaiming, “I will never let that happen! No matter what, we’re going to find a way to get you that operation!”

He spent night after night staring at the ceiling trying to think of how to make hundreds of thousands of dollars that he didn’t have. Then it came to him, an idea that would challenge all of his previous notions of right and wrong, and would truly test just how far he would go to save his son. All he had to do was call up his cousin Abdulla and make a deal with the devil; the devil that is opiates.

Ahmed’s cousin was an Afghani criminal who had managed to gain passage to the United States by means of an international crime syndicate that he had long had ties to. The deal was that the organization would help him escape from the law back in Afghanistan in exchange for Abdulla to become their distributor in Chicago. Ahmed knew that using this connection would mean sacrificing his humanity, but he had already decided that it was well worth sacrificing in order to save his only child.

Doubts flooded his thoughts as he pulled up to the inner city house with a sea of old car parts covering its overgrown lawn. He sat in his car shaking in anticipation, wanting so dearly to do nothing more than to drive back home to the life that had ceased to exist the minute his son was diagnosed. As he sat there shaking, he fingered through his pocket and managed to find a baby picture of his son. Then, with a jolt of courage surging through his body, he wiped the tears away and made his way towards Abdulla’s door. Just seconds after ringing the doorbell, a giant Middle Eastern man with track marks covering his arms appeared.

After a moment of inspecting Ahmed, the man cracked a smile and excitedly yelled, “Ah, it’s Ahmed! Come in my brother.”
Ahmed waded through the passed out addicts that inhabited the living room as his cousin led him to the bedroom. In the bedroom cotton balls, spoons, and used needles littered every surface and the walls were covered in tags.

“Please, have a seat while I go get the product,” said Abdulla.

Abdulla then proceeded to open a safe that he pulled out from under the bed. He then took out a duct tape covered brick of unidentified narcotics and tossed it to Ahmed.

After catching the brick, he asked, “What exactly is this?”

Abdulla laughed and with a smirk said, “Think of that as a means to keep your son alive, but if you really want to know, it’s black tar heroin. Just remember, it’s us or them. The second you start thinking of this as anything but business it’s over. This isn’t exactly a game for paper hearts like you.”

Ahmed took offense to this and retaliated with, “There isn’t a single thing that I wouldn’t do to save my son. If you think otherwise, then I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

“Well do it then. Get your a** to the high school and save him. If you really want to make some money get the young ones hooked. They won’t know if you rip them off, they have no way of knowing if a batch is cut, and once they’re on it you’ve got a customer for life.”

Determined to prove his devotion to his son, Ahmed hopped into the car and drove towards the high school. He had thought he was prepared to sell his soul, until he saw the joy on the students faces as they got out for the day. Was he really ready to take that away? He tried to push this thought out of his mind, and decided not to think but just to do. A group of students with baggy clothes caught his eyes, and he decided that he would try them first. Once he approached the group, immediately, all eyes were on him as he prepared to lose all morality. After a couple of minutes the kids expressed interest and resolved to meet him in the parking garage a few blocks away in an hour. Ahmed visited a few other groups and arranged all of the deals that would go down that day.

Before he knew it, he had sold almost the entire brick and was on his way to sell the last of it. When he got to the alley where they were supposed to meet something immediately felt off. As he hurried back towards his car, two men grabbed him and threw him to the ground.

“Where is it!” they screamed as they savagely beat him.

Ahmed desperately reached for some sort of weapon as his consciousness began to fade. He managed to find a bottle, and smashed one of the assailants over the head with it. After he was back on his feet, with a broken bottle in hand, the second assailant took one look at his accomplice and made a run for it. Ahmed had been victorious, but once his adrenaline rush ended, he realized the gravity of the situation. His first impulse was to check the pulse of the man on the ground. He removed the assailants mask to reveal that it was one of the high school students he was going to meet with, and that not a breath of life was left in the child’s cold body. Ahmed had reached the point of no return.

Drowning in doubt, Ahmed uneasily drove himself towards his cousin’s house. He was torn between giving this all up, and continuing on a path that would surely swallow up his soul in exchange for the funds to save his son. He knew that he wouldn’t last in this game, and lacked the courage to tell Abdulla this. His mind raced miles per minute as he searched for a solution that would save his son without robbing himself of all morality. Suddenly, it became all too clear; there was no other choice.

As he drove he noticed that there was a bridge approaching that overlooked a drop of hundreds of feet. He parked along the side and decided to get out and take a look over the edge. The drop almost seemed to call to him, his regret like an anchor pulling him to the certain death below.

He reached into his pocket to get his phone and texted his wife saying, “The money is in the glove box, I’ve always loved you. Make sure that Yasim knows his father loved him and gave everything for him. Goodbye.”