I'm not a hater, I’m not a hypocrite, or anything like that. I’m against drugs for one REAL GOOD reason. I hate seeing people, WOMEN, especially smoking, popping pills, and all that “good good” shit. Yeah when I was younger I was on all that all the time. I did some stupid shit; honestly, all the times I was high felt so well but in reality they were the worse times of my life. I didn’t know who I was because all I needed was drugs. I didn’t want anything else. My dad would be out, of course slanging. And I joined him, so whenever I needed to re-up I would come to him. Until one night I came home and my dad was not home. I called him more than enough times and he would just not answer. I called his friend up, and he told me he went to pick up his money. So I waited and waited until the clock hit 4am. Where was my dad? I got a phone call from my dad’s friend and I had a feeling inside it was something bad. He told me my dad had gotten stabbed by the nigga who owed him money. I rushed to the hospital, and I wasn’t able to see my dad until later that day. When I finally was able to see him he was pale, and couldn’t talk all that much. He told me, and I still can hear the words he told me. “Stop using drugs son, I don’t want you to end up like me.” I had to get out of the room for the nurses can do a checkup. Talking to the doctors they were saying he needed blood donated to. No one there was his type and by the time I went back in to see him he was asleep. I went out to get something to eat and when I came back, my dad’s friends was balling his eyes out. My heart dropped and it felt like my whole world froze, I knew my dad didn’t make it. That moment felt like I was dreaming, I wanted to wake up. I didn’t want to put anything in my head. But my dad’s friend told me and I could swear I was not all there. I did not cry, talk, anything. Until 5 minutes later. My dad was REALLY gone…. Over some piece of shit drugs that aren’t worth shit.