The needle...

People say my actions are a lot like his, I’m quiet but I know a lot more than people think. I know better but sometimes I do the wrong... Just like him but he went too far. When I found the medicine making him sleep, skinny and making him not care about the world, I was in shock. My brain was just running with questions and thoughts. How didn’t know about this sooner? How long has this been going on? Will he die doing this? Should I confront him or tell someone? I started crying uncontrollably, I heard him coming into the kitchen. I shoved the needle back in the coat pocket, and I just looked at him when he entered the room. Knowing why he had scabs on his arms, his eyes were red, and why he looked like he was all skin and bones. When I walked out of the room he told me “I love you.” I couldn’t answer, because what he’s doing is going to tare me apart and I don’t know what’s going to happen. He went into the bathroom to inject more medicine, I grabbed my phone and called my mom and told her to come get me.

Once I got home I called my aunt and told her what happened. Within the next week my aunt called me and told me she was taking him to rehab soon. Before she took him to rehab I went to his house, when I got there I started crying. He grabbed me and told me “I love you and I will be dad again.” I started crying even more and more! I couldn’t stop.
My aunt told me it’s time to go, I walked out the door crying and I couldn’t stop looking at him. Hope and wishes were going through my mind; I hope he is telling me the truth, maybe my nightmare is over... Two weeks later my aunt called me and told me he signed himself out of rehab. I thought to myself this is the beginning of a new nightmare.
March 1st he was on the news, “Meth Lab” was the headline, and the new nightmare began. My sisters are in foster care, they have lost the only person who cared for them besides me. I knew they were lost and scared because they were too young to understand. It made me feel like a failure because I should have tried to do something about it sooner, like when he signed himself out of rehab.
This has really made me think about what he was doing and now I could help him change. Now I go to visit him and every time I do visit him, I tell him how he made me cry every night knowing he was doing drugs, knowing that he could die any day if it didn’t stop. I also made him realize what he lost. He has lost all his kids, respect from his family and the trust from his daughters. For me I have lost seeing my sisters when I want to, and seeing him when I want to. I won’t get to kiss or hug him until he gets out of jail. He knows I love him. I just wish things could be different…