A Memoir, Pt. 2

This is the second installment of, "A Memoir," written by my friend, David. At the end of Pt. 1, we were introduced to "Conman," the local drug dealer.  Here is Pt. 2.

Enjoy.

I can still remember when I first realized my mother was on drugs. I was in elementary school and we had “Stand Up Day,” which was a day where we all were supposed to take a vow to stay drug free. As the guest speaker was telling the school how he had lost everything, I felt a tear come rolling down my face. I was only seven years old then, but that day was the day that ultimately changed my life forever. I ran home looking for answers and found the terrible horror of what I was looking for. A white powder substance was all over my mother’s vanity mirror and beside it were a tube and a tiny sandwich bag. I asked myself, “How did Mommy spill all of her powder?” I always tried to give my mother the benefit of the doubt, but deep inside I knew the truth.

As night turned to day I watched from the steps, as my friendly neighborhood became a war zone. Still sitting in front of this abandoned building, I could feel the cold air beginning to rip through my clothes and enter into my body, although it wasn’t one of those nights that were exceptionally cold.   Most of the frigid temperatures were because of my being alone.

 As the deep night approached I watched, as the place I spent most of my time became the meeting place of the night zombies. As they approached each other, I watched as they all walked up to Con begging for his services. Six years later, the little hustler was now the man in my community and I hated him for it. I had several other reasons why I hated him but my rage mainly focused around the same word from when I was ten. It was my turn to make him pay, as I arose from the steps contemplating what my next move would be. Like a pawn approaching a king, each step towards Con upgraded me to another piece. As I stepped on the same basketball court that I had played as a kid, I began to feel like a man. I knew that the next five steps were going to be the hardest five of what appeared to be the rest of my life. Four steps to go…three…two… one… then it happened… boom.

As I took off running I could see Con fall to the ground with blood everywhere. “What did I do,” I asked myself while running as fast as I could. As I rounded the first corner and then another, my legs began to take on a mind of their own. I was weaving in and out of cars and trees, hoping that Con didn’t get a glimpse of who had done this to him. “He is going to kill me,” I thought as I ran and ran until the night of the zombies disappeared. I had no idea where I was but the serenity of my environment began to take over me. As I looked around me, I noticed a familiar place and I entered. Walking past unfamiliar names, I kept going until I got to the simplest place. Nobody knew I would visit this place everyday for almost a year; it was like my chapel, and I knew that no matter what I did or whom I did it too, this person would always listen and never judge me. I walked up slowly, fell to my knees and gave the cold tombstone a hug. The tombstone was all that I had left of my best friend, who too had passed away, and left me all alone to deal with the stress of this world. He too died from the horror of drugs.  He told me that we would deal with life together, and then he left me, just like everyone had before in my life. Rage entered as I began to weep. I cried as a newborn would, as I lost control of the tears I yelled out, “What did I do? David, I need your help.”

I could hear someone approaching; I grabbed the cold tombstone tighter and refused to let go. Warmth surrounded me as I heard the voice I desperately wanted to hear begin to talk. I tried to do a process of elimination, but nobody could possibly know where I was . Maybe it was the police; I knew if it was, they were going to take me to jail for my stupid actions. As the wind began to blow I could hear a small voice begin to talk. As the voice spoke I just closed my eyes and let go for what seemed to be an eternity.

“Hey.  I know man, you are mad at everything that has happened over the last couple of years.” As I tried to turn around I felt something holding me down. “What are you going to do now? Do you want to die? I know that you may not understand everything that you have gone through in your life, but everything happens for a reason. Understanding is when you begin to see what it was for”. The words began to bring a warm tingling feeling over my body.

“I miss you, David,” I said,  “You were always a great friend.” 

“This can be the new beginning for us. I can help you and you can help me,”the voice said. Still on my knees I wondered what the voice meant. David had said the same thing to me before when I wasn’t doing well in school, and he was an honors student. “Can we start over?” Always thinking about me, David was once again helping me but this time from the grave.

“Yes, yes we can start over,” I screamed like I was at a concert trying to be heard over the speakers. The warm feeling had now begun to feel like a hug surrounding my body, more than a physical feeling, it was the feeling of love. As I embraced the feeling, I heard the words “I love you and I’m sorry,” but I noticed that the words I was hearing weren’t in my head nor were they from David. As I turned around I couldn’t believe my eyes.