9-25-12
Death would have been easier to deal with. At least then I would be rid of this loathsome agony. Instead, I have to live with the fact that I have hurt everyone around me. All this pain, this loss, it is ripping apart at my insides. If I could go back eighteen years ago, I would. Maybe then I would not have to watch my children being taken away from me by two men that have taunted me excruciatingly. This is the story of a weak and gullible mother. I am Maca, and this is my story.
It all started when I was seven. I lived with my mother, my sister, Amy, and (every so often) my father. We were quite poor, so the best home we could find was in the only rough neighborhood I our small town of Bonham, Texas. Everyone who knew me, knew they could virtually get away with anything when I was around, because they knew they can always blame me. My father, a rambling man, would randomly vanish, leaving my mother to wonder what in the world she had done. My sister and I were three years apart, but completely inseparable. We did everything, whether it was on purpose or by shier chance.
For instance, one day, after another disappearance of our father, I ventured into Amy’s room. Smoke sprang out of the door. Our mother smoked all the time, so I had thought nothing of it. However, my devious sister did. Amy jumped, and grabbed me. She popped a cigarette into my mouth and plugged my nose. I inhaled and instantly, the thick gray smoke filled my lungs. It had a terrible taste, and made me choke. I felt as if my throat was going to clog up with dry snot. “Now you can’t tattle tell. You did it too!” I could hear Amy ranting and laughing at me with her friends. She, and her friends insisted me to finish what I started. I did, not knowing that this incident was going to haunt me forever.
A week or so later, I found myself with Amy, smoking another cigarette. Only one more. I remember telling myself. One more went to two more, which went to three, which went to four and so on. We smoked a pack a week. Then we ended up smoking a pack a day, each. I didn't know how to correctly make myself stop. It seemed to be the only thing that put me at peace. All the terrors at home stopped bothering me when I smoked. At the time, I couldn't feel the pulsating urge to do more.
When I was ten, I found another activity, besides cigarettes, that became a part of my everyday life. I joined the middle school band. It turned out that I was very good. I quickly exceeded the rest of the band, even though I was the youngest. I was first chair every time in my section. I could memorize any peace. I was even invited to play with the local youth orchestra a few times. If I had stuck with it, I could of made a career out of it. All good things, though, can come to an end if you do not put it above everything else.
By the time I was twelve, I had already mastered cigarettes, and decided to look for something a little stronger. As before, I went to my half-crazed sister, Amy, in search for something more exciting to fill my lungs. She grinned and introduced me to marijuana, the ultimate rebel drug. Everyone in high school did it, and I, at the time, was about to be a part of the high school crowd. One puff and I could feel my head spin. My heart slowed, along with everything around me. The marijuana made me laugh, made me cry, made me paranoid. It also made me cough hard, which reminded me of my first cigarette. Amazing how well your lungs can last against one substance, but completely shrivel up against another, similar substance.
Like the cigarettes, the marijuana became a frequent habit. One small blunt every other week turned into one dime bag and a bong every other day. It was consuming me. By the middle of my freshman year, marijuana consumed more of me than my beloved Band. I ended up quitting my only school pass-time that was actually making me smile naturally, for a drug that only made me think I was happy.
Towards the end of that same year, I met him. He was the most amazing, most athletic, most outgoing man on the soccer team; Ryan. Of course, the short ex-band geek couldn't be in a relationship with the star of the soccer team, so I kept my distance.
