The war
Alone in the war, facing one of many battles in my life. My sister, nine years my senior, is entangled in heroin addiction, and her once vibrant home now reflects the darkness within. Drawn curtains, filth, and an air thick with despair.
As I arrive, unsure whom to rescue, I know I can’t take on both. Walking in without knocking, their faces are nodded out, consumed by their addiction. I declare that one of them is coming with me, regardless of who. My niece stands up, and a mental battle ensues. Summoning strength, I reluctantly knock her out, focusing on my more feeble sister, whom I carry to the car amidst screams and protests.
Over the next six months in an isolated cabin, I witness the withdrawal struggles. Convulsions, soiled surroundings, and relentless pleas for just one hit. Enduring her actions, from attempts to escape to fabricating stories of abduction, the battle intensifies. Finally, the day comes to release my sister, but my niece is missing, prompting a relentless search through the city’s trap houses.
Becoming the watchdog for my sister and niece, this battle transforms into an unwinnable war. Despite my pleas, stress ravages my body. My sister’s theft from my niece’s account adds another layer of anguish. The job my niece had cashed out her 401(k), granting my sister access to funds that tragically contribute to her demise.
September arrives, and I witness my sister’s lifeless body on a mortuary table, feeling the weight of helplessness. The last conversation echoes, haunted by regretful words. Two years later, I bury my niece. The guilt, relief, and questioning persist – could I have done more, loved them better, helped them through their heartache?
The heartbreak of addiction within family lingers, challenging survival. Postmortem, the guilt wrestles with reason. I couldn’t break the demon of heroin that claimed my sister and her daughter. Their graves stand as living proof of my perceived failure. While some may argue it was their choice, I believe mental illness played a dominant role, and those who love them should have joined the battle against their demons.
Forever grieving and lonely, I pray for solace and the opportunity to convey how deeply they were loved in this world if I ever reunite with them.
This is dedicated to all those struggling with addiction! Know you are worthy, loved and forgivable
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