To whom it may concern

In the beginning of it all

~Before i begin this story i would just like to let you guys know that this actually happened to me. everything im going to write it 100% true. ~

I was only 5 or 6 when I realized how sick my mother really was. She was an addict. She was addicted to relief.

Every day she would take something. Either a Xanax to take the edge off, narcotics to ease the hurt, or liquor to drown the pain. She had become a zombie. She was drowning in her addiction.

She also hated my dad, me and my sister. We got blamed for ruining her life every single day. "I hate you" "everything's your fault" "I'd be better off alone" she would mutter every hour of every day.

But right after my 8th birthday I finally caught a break.

I remember everything about that day. It was 7:14 in the morning when i woke up to alarm screaming. My mom was supposed to be up by now but I figured she was just hung over.

I walked out into the living room of our tiny, lonely 2 bedroom apartment and saw my mom slumped over on the couch. Her skin was blotchy and cold so I got her a blanket and tried to wake her up for about 10 minutes until I finally gave up and got my big sister Cheyenne who was 12 at the time. "Sissy, mommy won't wake up".

And in that moment as I watched all of the color flush right out of my sisters face I knew something was wrong. She was shaking and could barley speak but managed to make out the words, "get the phone and call aunt Sally NOW".

Me and my sister sat on our apartment stairs on that cold October morning and waited for my moms best friend, our "aunt Sally" to get there.

As soon as she got there we all went back into the apartment and circled around my mom. Then, she lifted my mom up out of her slumped over position and i watched as my moms stiff lifeless body fell over onto the other side of the couch.

And I knew right in that moment, standing in that small two bedroom apartment looking at the dry blood that dripped down my moms nose through the night, that she was dead.