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Heroin became my mother, brother, and sisters best friends. Living in a small, middle class, suburban town outside of one of the greatest cities in the world; You would think in such a decent neighborhood “no hardcore drugs would effect me!” But you’re wrong. Growing up with a severely mentally ill mother with manic depression was tough enough. My brother and sister were the popular kids when they were teens. I was a big nobody. They started smoking weed and partying every weekend. Which turned into everyday. Then my mother wanted to be a part of their fun endeavors. My mother introduced her prescription drugs to my siblings. My sister liked them but my brother didn’t. Soon after my brother got hooked on perc 30s (Percocets, 30 mg). Doing those drugs was fun and games and I just watched from the bleachers. They looked so cool and like they were living their best lives until one day heroin came into our lives. I’ve never done any of the drugs I was exposed to as a kid but boy they sure did leave an everlasting impact and continue to do so til this day. The first time my mother and siblings snorted the drug they became a slave to it. It’s cheaper for a bundle of heroin rather than any pills you can cop on the street. After awhile you get used to their violent fits, their nodding out, and acting like they’re having seizures. Then being a young kid picking up after them constantly. Making sure they make better choices no matter how small. Having to grow up fast and realize you don’t want this lifestyle. Yet, you’re stuck with no way out until you can finish school and make some real money. All you have is the clothes on your back so you can’t leave. You feel like you’re trapped in a cage doing the same routine day after day. They are too but they get to escape through chemical use. You have to sit in silence while no one cares about what happens to you. No one reaches out to help you but you don’t reach out to anyone in fear of rejection. “What might the community think of me? I don’t do the drugs but it has to make me look like a junky.” The truth is most people believe the first thing they hear about someone. I have been treated like I’m less than because of the choices my family has made. Oh but I do have a father and he enables the drug habits. He gives them money after they steal from him. Make them out to be the poster children of America. All while you try so hard to do good just for one person to notice. You’re stuck in the background just a sound of wind that’s overturned and ignored once again. One little bad grade on your test. One dish not cleaned and you are the criminal. There’s no room in this house unless you start to abuse the drug but you’re too afraid of going near that substance that has taken so many lives. You’re in a losing fight. Heroin is now all you know.