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-Justice 

Self-Love

 

“I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.” - Brené Brown

 



Joy Ride

 

She is older than me. She is smart, funny, exciting, and old enough to buy liquor. She is my best friend, Ariel. Ariel is 21 years old, and I am 17. We always have fun together…especially with the alcohol, drugs, and joy rides. We were always partying in the club every weekend, and my rebellious actions were steadily increasing.

 

I am at Ariel’s house and we are getting dressed to go out for the night. We have bottles of Ivanabitch (liquor), and flavored juice to go along with it. We agree to take 2 shots of liquor together before we leave. Ariel’s mother is cool, and she doesn’t care if we drink inside of her house. Neither does she care about what time we arrive back home, but my mom does.

We are finished getting dressed, and Ariel tells her mom that we are leaving. That was a lie…considering that we were walking down the street to get some weed. Ariel wanted to see her boyfriend before we left, and I wanted to hit the blunt a couple of times before we left. We arrive at Ariel’s boyfriend house. While they are making out…I am sitting over to the side rolling my eyes while rolling a blunt. I am ready to leave, and I am ready to have some fun!

Ariel and I are in the car now with the music blasting. I have made myself a mixed drink, and I am gulping the liquor down while Ariel is driving. We finally arrive outside of the club, and Ariel parks the car. She takes out a cup from her purse, and we begin to take shots together. Our goal was to get as drunk as possible without making ourselves look “drunk” in public. This was our nightly routine before we went out, and we were experts at it!

 

Ariel hands me her expired I.D. to get into the club. She tells me to stand a few spots in front of her, so that security does not detect that we have the same I.D. Ariel’s plan works once again, and both of us are now inside of the night club.
 



I am having fun, and I am really enjoying myself. I’m in VIP, and I am sitting on the couch…intoxicated and high. I begin to feel a tap on my shoulder. I look up, and it’s an extremely tall man standing beside me. He begins to speak, but I cannot hear him…I guess he completely forgot that we were inside of a club. Any who, he sits on the couch next to me, and he begins to speak to me. He introduces himself as Cody. I have not seen him around before, but he’s attractive. I begin to try and sober up…maybe he won’t be able to tell that I am drunk; maybe he can.

 

We exchange numbers, and my night continues to go great!

 

It has been a few months, and Cody and I have been chilling with each other a lot! He is a few years older than me, but I don’t mind. I’m 17 and he is 23. My parents have no idea that Cody even exists. I have to hide it from them because of the age difference. I am underage, and getting caught with Cody is the last thing on my agenda.

I have come to visit Cody. He picked me up from my friend’s house earlier. Now, we are chilling and watching television at his sister’s apartment. We have plans to go out to eat at a restaurant and to go to the movies later. Sadly, none of this goes as plan, and our date does not happen.

This is because Cody decided to lie about having a car…when in reality he didn’t even own a bike. I was fooled once again by a man. I cannot blame him though. I blame it on my ignorance, and allowing myself to become gullible.

 

My mother has sent me a text message telling me to be home by 2:00 AM. I ask her for a 30 minute extension, and she agrees. Let’s just say I did not make it home on time…

 

We are still sitting on the couch watching television, and I am ready to go. Cody picked me up from Ariel’s house, so I needed someone to come and pick me up from his sister’s place. I begin to text everyone in my contacts, but no one is available to come get me. I am stuck at Cody’s sister’s apartment, and I’m there until he can take me home.

 

At this point Cody is saying that his sister is in his car, but I am catching on to the reality that Cody does not possess a car…nor an apartment.

Cody asks me if I want to smoke. Why not? I am stuck here until his sister comes back home, and I have no idea how long that will be.


Car headlights begin to shine through the window. It is Cody’s sister pulling in from work. Finally! We can leave!

 

Cody tells me that we will be leaving soon, but his actions are not saying the same thing. He is in no rush to leave. I could tell by his sister’s actions that she had no idea that he had to take me home. I began to think about my 2:30 AM curfew, especially since it was already 1:-- AM. My mom was going to KILL ME!

How was I going to tell Cody that I had to leave? How was I going to explain that I had a curfew to a grown man? I had to think of something, and I had to think fast.

 

Cody comes into the living room and asks me if I am ready to leave. I immediately said, “Yes!” The only thing that was on my mind was going home! I gather my belongings, and we begin to walk outside to the car. We get inside of the car, and I notice the Tweety Bird steering wheel cover. Yep, this is his sister’s car, and he is officially a liar.

 

He begins to drive, and I know that we have a long drive ahead of us. His sister stays a great distance from my mom’s house, and I am praying that I make it home on time. All of a sudden, I see blue lights flashing. The police are pulling us over, and I am pretty sure that I am going to miss my curfew. The police officer asks for Cody’s driver license. The words that I was dreading to hear are exactly what came out of Cody’s mouth, “They are suspended.”
 



 

That was the last thing that I wanted to hear at that point. Not to mention, the police officer was taking forever to finish writing the ticket. After all of the paperwork was completed the police officer handed Cody his ticket, and asked for my driver’s license. Luckily, I had my driver’s license in my purse. The officer made Cody and I change seats, and I was told to drive.

 

Yes! I can speed home!

 

Cody is sleep in the passenger seat, and I have my foot on the gas pedal…FLYING! Before you know it…I see blue flashing lights in the rearview mirror. Shit! Not again! Cody wakes up, and he’s pissed. I don’t care though…I just want to get home. The officer begins to ask me the usual “pull over” questions and I give him my driver’s license. I look at my phone, and it is almost 4:00 AM. The police officer is still writing my ticket, and I am feeling hopeless. I throw the ticket in my purse, and…

 

I begin to head home…again. The only difference is that I am doing the speed limit.

 

I pull in front of my mom’s house, and I am more than terrified to walk inside. I have disobeyed my mom, and I know that she is worried. I am turning my key into the door, and I step inside. The alarm goes off, and I begin to run towards the alarm system to turn it off. My mom beats me to the alarm system, and begins to look into my eyes. “You’re drunk!” Little did she know…my high was over, and my red eyes came from simply being tired.

 

My mother never said anything to me about that night. I must say as a daughter I felt terrible. I was a teen breaking rules that my mother was trying to enforce to protect me. It was because she loved me, and wanted me out of harm’s way. If you are a teen out there reading this PLEASE, PLEASE, PLLLLEEAAAASSEE listen to your parents! I can honestly say that if I would have listened to at least 60% of what my mom said…I would have avoided a lot of troubling events in my life. Do not wait until you are older and in your 20’s to get it right. Start now!

Sometimes we think that we know it all, so we tend to rebel with our actions. Sometimes we even choose to rebel verbally to our parents, especially when we THINK we are right. Believe me when I say that they have lived longer than you, have experienced more than you, and what they are telling is more than likely true. Never, intentionally try to drive your parents crazy. If you think an action of yours will hurt your mother, father, or guardian…please spare them the heartache and the headache. They have already been through enough in this crazy world.

 

-Justice

“Tear on your mothers eye, is as heavy as the ocean waters” - Zybejta "Beta" Metani' Marashi

 

Life After My Rape

 

It’s been a while after my rape and I am still afraid to be around men. I am not sure if I know “how” to. Usually, I am nervous, afraid, and full of fear. What if he does something to me? What if he hurts me? I was hesitant to be alone with any male, except for my father and my male siblings.

I am walking out of class, and I notice a very handsome guy. He is tall, has shoulder length light brown hair, muscles, and multiple tattoos. I soon realize that he is in one of my classes that I take later on within the day. He is good-looking, but I know I will never speak to him.

A couple of days go by, and before I know it I am attending 4 classes once again. I walk into class, and guess who I see….the handsome man from the other day. Yep, I was right! He is in one of my classes, and he looks great! I am going to say something to him, and I am going to speak today!

…what was I THINKING??!!

Class is over, and I see him standing in the lobby. He is talking on his cell phone, but he is standing by himself. I glimpse back over and I see that he is off of his phone now. He begins to walk away, and proceeds to head towards the double doors, and so do I. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… “Hi, my name is Justice!” I was speaking to him, and I was terrified in the inside.

 

 

I continue to introduce myself, and I let him know that I think that he is very handsome. Everything is working in my favor, and in the inside I am so HAPPY!!! I could scream! We exchanged numbers, and he told me that he would be texting me later.

I don’t know what made me happier…the fact that I built enough courage to approach him or the fact that I got his number. Either way I was beyond happy!

Finally, the guy texts me, and the text conversation is going great. The conversation was not boring, and he possessed one of the best qualities…humor. Everything was going in a positive direction. This is until he asked if he could come visit me. My answer was immediately, NO! I was too afraid to be around him. I could not let anything happen to me, especially rape again. It happened to me once, and I damn sure was not going to let it happen to me again.

My last class is over for the day, and I am walking into my therapist’s office. I need to talk to her about my rape. I need to express my feelings, my thoughts, and I need someone to listen. What other way to accomplish that goal other than therapy? Catch the sarcasm. I reveal to her that I have recently met a guy who I am somewhat attracted to. I tell her that he has asked me several times if he can come visit me, but it is the fear that is holding me back from saying yes. I explain to my therapist that I am still afraid to be around men. “I love men, but I am afraid to trust one. I am afraid to be alone with one.”

She tells me that the feeling I was having was normal, and to give the visit a try.

It is the next week, and I am lying in bed texting. He is trying to see me again, and once again I am nervous. He asks if he can come over, and I reluctantly text back, yes! He then asked me to text him my address to my apartment, which I did.

 

 

 

I immediately jumped up, and began to straighten up my apartment. This was really happening! I did not think that he would actually come to visit me.

Well, he has just sent me the “on my way” text. My anxiety kicks in, and I begin to become overwhelmed with the situation. I began to call some of my close friends. Maybe they can sit in my living room while he visits me. I was more than afraid! But in the inside I knew I had to rid myself of this fear, or I would never get better mentally.

None of my friends answered the phone, and I begin to panic. This guy is on his way to my apartment, and I have no idea what his actions will be. I go into the kitchen and retrieve a knife. I put it behind a picture frame on my night stand; it wouldn’t be visible to him. I also place my mace pepper spray underneath my pillow, and I light a candle. I am not using the candle for a pleasant scent…I need it for the hot wax just in case he tries to hurt me.

I was petrified, but I was ready to face my fear.

 

 

 

I receive a text on my phone, and he is telling me that he is outside. A few seconds go by and there are knocks at my door. It was him and I was nervous. I open the door, and there he was. He walks into my apartment, and begins to speak. He gives me a hug, and asks me about my day. He was really nice and sweet, but I was still nervous. I was trying to calm my nerves, so that he could not tell that I was afraid.

We begin to watch television and talk about music. I had such a good time, and there was never an awkward moment! We laughed, we joked, told embarrassing stories, and much more. It was so worth letting him come over. The best part about it was…he never tried to touch me nor hurt me. I must say the feeling was magnificent!

 

 

I, Justice Evas, was spending time with a man by myself =) Can we say...GROWTH!!! At last, I was facing my fear, which I overcame.

And I thank HIM for that! =)

-Justice Evas

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”  -Nelson Mandela

 

 

 

The Scars People Leave

"The marks humans leave are too often scars" -John Green

Justice Evas 

Hope>>>>

My Mother's Pain

 

 

I am standing between them. It’s him and her fighting, and I heard the yelling from outside. I have come inside the house because it’s my mom’s voice that I hear.

The table is broken, there are holes in the wall, and cracked picture frames on the floor. I run to stand in front of my mom; maybe I can protect her. I’m 16, and I’m crying. Why her? I begin to yell at him in her defense. He’s standing there…looking at me in anger. He’s trying to keep his composure in front of me, but I know he wants to hurt her. He walks away and my mom gets inside of her car. I look outside of the window while the tears roll down my face as she drives away.

 

 

 

I’m constantly calling my mother’s cell phone, but she continues not to answer. As I look back on it…maybe she was on the phone with her mother. I knew she was sad. I would pray every night that he wouldn’t drive her crazy to the point to where she would give up…on life that is. She continued to stay strong, but I can’t imagine the pain she was feeling.

 

I’m sitting in class, and a woman with brown hair walks in.  I’m in the 4th grade now, and I’m shocked when she walks up to my desk. I never get in trouble at school (at this age). I notice her from the front office; she works at the administrative desk at my school. The lady kneels down, and begins to whisper to me. She tells me that my mom will not be picking me up from school. She explains to me that my aunt will be picking me up instead. I didn’t understand why my mom was not picking me up. I was always a “car rider” and my mom was always the one to come and get me.

 

 

It’s 3:00 PM and school lets out. I get into the forming class line, and we proceed to walk outside. All of the car riders had to stand in front of the school, and wait on their parent(s) to pick them up.

I finally see my aunt’s car pull into the front of my school, and I begin to head towards her car. “Hey Justice!” I was happy to see her, but I was upset. My mom would normally stop somewhere to get a snack on the way home, but my aunt was going to take me straight to the house.

She didn’t say anything about my mother while we were in the car. We listened to music and harmonized with each other the entire ride home.

 

I begin to see an ambulance’s flashing lights and multiple police car lights flashing also. As my aunt continues to drive down the street I see that the flashing lights are right outside of my house. My aunt pulls into the drive way, and I walk down the sidewalk to the front of the house. I see my mom’s boyfriend strapped onto a stretcher.

 

I looked at his face, and he could only move his eyes…nothing else. He couldn’t move one muscle.

 

I turned away to walk inside of the house, and my mother is standing by the door. She seemed to be unbothered by everything that was going on. My mom didn’t say anything about her boyfriend to me, but I knew she did something to him.

 

I knew whatever she did to him was in self-defense. To be honest, I’m happy that she decided to stand up for herself. I was proud of her!

 

I know that sometimes we can be so in love that we become blind. We sometimes will even make ourselves believe that it is our fault, which is completely false. Whether it is a mother, a son, or a grandfather…no one deserves to be abused. Abuse comes in multiple forms, and the results from any type of abuse can be very traumatic.

 

If you are in an abusive relationship PLEASE do not continue to be silent about it. Harboring those types of feelings can bring you down in a drastic way…especially mentally. Whether it is telling a close friend, a teacher, a sibling, or your journal…let those feelings out and express yourself.

 

 

If you feel as if you can’t walk away right now…just know that you are more than able. Your love is enough to fulfill your own happiness =) It is all in building your mental and emotional strength.

 

Everything happens for a reason. God makes no mistakes and I assure you of that! You are a soldier, and you will become stronger than you ever imagined. Your life is what YOU make of it! This is YOUR life…write your own story.

 

Don’t let anyone ruin your spirit! If I can make it…you can also! =)

 

This is MY life. This is MY story.

 

-Justice

 

“We cannot achieve more in life than what we believe in our heart of hearts we deserve to have.” -James R. Ball

 

College Student

 

Check back in later for a new story =)

 

-Justice

 

Twitter: @HelpSaveJustice

Instagram: @HelpSaveJustice



Mr. Perfect =)

 

We have been friends since I was 18 years old. I met Michael in college my freshman year, and he has been by male best friend ever since. I remember the first time I saw Michael. I thought he was handsome, but too handsome to where I knew he was a hoe.

We’re at a mutual friend’s apartment and Michael has just pulled out a huge bag of weed; he asks if we want to smoke. Yes, of course. That was the last time that I saw Michael, until he showed up on my Facebook friend suggestions. *Click* …friend request has been sent! =)

Michael finally accepts my friend request, and I must say, he looked GREAT on his pictures. This was exactly what he looked like in person. He has a beautiful skin tone, gorgeous hair, tattoos, buff, and did I mention handsome already? That was Michael.

I’m in the club and I’m drunk as hell! I still look okay, but my walk is a little off. I’ve had more than a few drinks, and I can most definitely feel them. I’m walking towards the bathroom to get myself together because I’m pretty sure my eyeliner is on my cheek now. I walk through the double doors, and guess who I see?

Michael.

…and oh does he look amazing! Yet, I’m drunk as hell! Sucks, right?!

Well, the party is over and I notice Michael sitting to the side by himself. I decide to walk over and speak, since I have 5 gallons of liquid courage inside of me. I approach him, and made one of the biggest mistakes; I called him the wrong name.

“Hey Melvin!” …he tells me that I’ve called him the wrong name, but he lets me slide. I’m pretty sure he could tell I was under the influence, but I’m sure he understands that I am a sophomore in college.  I ask him for his number, and we exchange numbers. I tell him to text me; being that my friends are ready to go home.

I just know that I’m ready to see Michael again.

I’m in the car, and I’m texting Michael. He’s telling me that I can come over, but it’s 4 in the morning. I know he only wants one thing from me, but I decide to go over anyway. I mean, I’m in control of my body; I knew I wasn’t going to have sex with him. But what were his intentions?

I pull into Michael’s apartment complex, and I am so nervous. He’s so fine and handsome, and I had butterflies. The butterflies went away soon enough though, considering that I was still tipsy.

I get inside of the apartment, and I instantly fall in lust. He’s perfect, but I bet he’s a male whore.

We begin to watch television, and we start to catch up with each other. The last time I saw him was at our mutual friend’s house, and now I’m in his apartment. I couldn’t believe it! One minute we were talking, and the next minute we were knocked out sleep. The next morning I walked out of his apartment, and completed my “walk of shame”. I was still wearing my club dress, and stiletto heels.

 

 

That was only the start of our genuine friendship.

I have just been beaten up by my boyfriend, and the only person I can think to call next is Michael. I’m crying, sad, and down in every way…spiritually, physically, and mentally. I needed to vent and I needed much comfort; Michael was there.

He has let me come over to spend the night because I don’t want to be by myself. I rather joke, laugh, and forget the pain. Michael and I are smoking a blunt, and watching television. I’m having such a great time! The best part about it was…my mind was free from my baggage.

 

 

I have the munchies now, and I’m asking Michael to go get some Krispy Kreme donuts. He tells me no, and tells me to go buy my own. I’m accustomed to getting that treatment, so it didn’t bother me. They were just donuts. Time goes by and Michael begins to put his shoes on. He tells me that he will be right back, but didn’t tell me where he was going. For all I knew he was with some hoochie. I wouldn’t be surprised…he’s perfect.

I’m lying in the bed, and Michael finally comes through the door. He’s carrying a plastic bag, but he doesn’t say anything. He opens the bag, and it is a box of Krispy Kreme donuts inside. I was so happy! Not only because I had the munchies, but because it was the nicest thing that any male has done for me. I sat up in his bed, and he was sitting in his favorite chair. We demolished those Krispy Kreme donuts that night! LOL!

 

Michael and I continued to spend time together, but strictly as friends. I knew about his “girls” and he knew about the many “dogs” that I ran across. He knows about my rape, and he doesn't treat me any "different"; I'm normal to him.

Michael is 3 years older than me, so he would always give me knowledge on men; I just kept running into the wrong guys.

It’s August, and Michael’s lease is up. He needs somewhere to crash until he can move into his new apartment. He calls one day and asks me if he can stay with me for 2 weeks. Why not? He is my best friend, and he is always there for me. My answer to him was yes…

I had so much fun with him! I felt like I had a male roommate, and I actually loved it! He never tried to touch me nor hurt me, and that was a great feeling. We smoked together, chilled together, gossiped together, and I can honestly say he was my favorite roommate.

 

 

Michael has just gotten off from work, and he has bought me some weed. He rolls up, and I put a movie in. It’s a stand up comedian’s DVD, and I am laughing from it. I notice that I’m laughing too hard, and I stop instantly. I tell him that I’m sorry for laughing so hard.  Michael tells me, “It’s okay to laugh!” and he starts to smile! …his statement made me so happy. It felt great to be able to be myself. I was use to my ex-boyfriend telling me that I smiled too hard, and telling me to stop smiling. The verbal abuse was so bad that you could say I was brainwashed by him.

Now, I could laugh, giggle, and smile as hard as I wanted to. I noticed the difference, and it was a difference that I deserved.

At one point I asked Michael if “we” could ever turn into something. His answer was one of the greatest, and he earned so much respect from me. He tells me that he cares too much about me to hurt me…he doesn’t want to lie to me. He has girls, many, and I know it. He never lies to me about them nor hides them. He was someone that gave me honesty and truth…it was something a man never gave me.

I’m 22 years old now, and my lease to apartment is over. I ask Michael to help me move, and to keep my humongous, flat screen television until I move into my new apartment. Michael agrees, and he comes over to pick up the television. Michael has had the television for a while now. It has been about 2 months, and the last time that I checked on the television it was fine.

Michael has just texted me, and has told me that he has sold the television. I call him IMMEDIATELY, but he doesn’t answer the phone…he’s at work. I tell Michael to stop playing, but he’s reassuring me that the television is gone. His statements begin to piss me off, and before you knew it…I was calling Michael a “broke b*tch!” Yep, you read it right.

I was so tired of MEEEENNNN! The least that he could have done was give me some of the profit that he made from the television. Let’s just say…money never came up! I continued to curse at Michael, and I was so angry that I began to cry. I run out of my apartment, jump into my car, and I begin to speed to Michael’s apartment. I wasn’t going to let him screw me over! It was war!

I park my car outside of Michael’s apartment, and I begin to speed walk to his apartment door. I’m pounding on his front door, and I’m ready to beat his ass! How could he do this to me? He knows I love that television, and I wanted to mount it in my new apartment. I was going to KILL HIM!

There’s no answer at the door, and I’m pissed. I felt like someone flushed a million dollars down the toilet!

Michael finally calls me back laughing. He’s telling me that he was just playing, and that the television is in his room. I was pissed, but I started to feel so bad! How could I talk to him like that? I was degrading a GROWN MAN! A nice man, at that. He begins to ask me why I went off and cursed at him like that. I was angry, but angry wasn’t a good enough reason.

Michael then tells me, “I didn’t know you could get that mad!” …that’s because he never knew of the anger, and the pain that I was holding inside.

 

 

Michael, do you understand now? =)

I learned that all men are not the same. It took a while, but I finally saw it for myself. I learned that not every man just wants me for sex. Some men actually want a real friendship, and I’m blessed to have Michael as my best friend. I know that he will always be there for me, and I know that his heart is genuine. He teaches me so much, and I doubt he realizes it. I love him, and I’m thankful to have him. Without him, I probably wouldn’t have noticed what I really deserve from a man. He’s the best!

…and remember, THEY aren’t all the same =)

 

-Justice

"The good man is the man who, no matter how morally unworthy he has been, is moving to become better." -John Dewey

-Justice Evas

 

I will be posting a new story today!

 

Make sure to stop back by to check it out =)

[Feel free to spread the blog link around]

 

This is MY life. This is MY story.

 

-Justice

 



https://twitter.com/HelpSaveJustice

Drug Me Up

Long pants and closed toe shoes; that’s what my grandmother has dressed us in. She is taking us to visit my uncle who is in prison. He’s one of my cool uncles, and he has just been busted for trafficking and other drug charges.

 

 

I guess that’s the end of the 100 dollar bills for me. He was locked up…

I grew up around hustlers…and everybody was trying to make a dollar. My uncle was somewhat like Pablo Escobar to me. He had the money, the cars, and the women…I didn’t know until I was older that it was because of drugs.

 

 

I’m 10 years old walking through my grandmother’s living room. My uncle walks by me, and he hands me a 100 dollar bill. I know it is money, but I lay it down somewhere for my alcoholic grandfather to pick it up. My grandfather is addicted to liquor and lottery scratch offs; always asking us to pick numbers for his PowerBall sheet. I always gave him random numbers, and he never won.

Any who, my uncle has a brand new truck and a brand new girlfriend; she’s my new “Aunt”. I could care less about her though. I’m interested in my uncle’s new tattoo on his neck…it reads, “MOE”. It stands for “Money over Everything”, and he most definitely has the money.

 

The police have raided my uncle’s “stash house”, and they’ve found the drugs and his money. He had it all hidden in his wall. The police smashed his wall in, found the drugs and money, and they took everything…including my uncle.

…I’m walking back towards my uncle’s visitation table. I’m pissed because the vending machine has taken my hamburger. He goes to handle it…shaking the vending machine violently, but he gets my burger =) I begin to smile, and he tells me to buy more things from the vending machine; he plans on hustling the food off to other inmates inside the prison.

So much had changed! …Another uncle was in prison, and it meant no more 20, 50, nor 100 dollar bills for me.

My uncle is finally out of prison, and I’m 16 years old. YES!!! I’m excited, and that means we don’t have to make the long drive every Sunday to visit him.

I’m sitting on the couch over one of my uncle’s girlfriend’s house. My uncle comes into the room with a handful of things. He sits a scale on the table, takes out a bag of weed, and throws some cigarillos on the table. He begins to ask me if I know what it is. Well, of course I do. All the dudes I dated and hung around smoked weed; it just wasn’t my preference. I thought it was disgusting! Smoking? Ewwww! I would never smoke weed…I thought.

 

 

He begins to break the cigarillo down, and proceeded to put the tobacco to the side. “You’re going to see it one day, so you might as well see it with me”. I was learning how to roll my first blunt, and my uncle was teaching me.

Before you knew it I was on cloud nine.

My friend and I are about to go out to have some fun. I ask her if she wants to stop by my uncle’s house to smoke first; I know he has some weed…he’s a drug dealer.

We’re over at my uncle’s house now, and I begin to roll up some weed to smoke. My uncle tells me to try some juice; I then ask him what kind of juice. He tells me to go look in the refrigerator and grab the Pure Juice bottle that’s labeled “DON’T TOUCH!” I asked my aunt why the juice was labeled “Don’t touch” …she tells me that it will just make me sleepy, but don’t drink it. My uncle begins to encourage me to drink some of the juice. I mean, he hasn’t gotten me into trouble yet, so why not? I begin to drink the juice…right along with a cup of New Amsterdam mixed with some flavored juice.

 

My uncle, my friend, and I begin to take shots of liquor.

I’m high and whatever is in my drink is beginning to kick in. I ask my uncle what was in my drink, and he replied, “It’s lean and bars”. Lean is a type of prescription cough syrup and bars are prescription Xanax pills that could be used for depression. I was on a high like no other…and soon I was knocked out…cold!

 

 

That was my first time experiencing any type of drug besides weed, and my uncle was the one to encourage me to do it. My uncle claimed that I would have seen it one day, so I might as well see it for the first time with him. What he said was partially true.

When I came to college I noticed that a lot of students around my age had never experienced weed, pills, or any type of drug. To be honest, those were the kids that wanted to experiment, and went wild and crazy. Some of them even dropped out of college.

…But I wish my uncle wouldn’t have exposed me to that side of “that” world. I was so young, and when I became older and more stressed…that’s how I would take the stress away, and I became addicted. Prescription medications can become very addictive, and can also alter your personality. Prescription drugs can also make you black out to the point that you do not remember things; this allows anyone to be able take advantage of you.

MY ADVICE: If your name is not on the prescription, then do not take it =) It’s not worth your health, your life, nor your mind…because trust me, a drug can control your mind and your actions. If someone is trying to pressure you into drugs, then make your own decision. And make sure that your decision is ethical AND legal! =)

 

 

I know how it feels to be stressed, down, and depressed, but I can truly say that there are better options than doing drugs to relieve the pain…such as journaling and blogging =)

Know your worth! We all have a purpose!

-Justice

“Drug misuse is not a disease, it is a decision, like the decision to step out in front of a moving car. You would call that not a disease but an error of judgment.” - Philip K. Dick