Count Me Dead - Dhoha Kliban (inspirational books to read .txt) 📗

When I got older and learned what was wrong and what was right, I also began to feel. Before this time I never knew what my parents and brothers did.
Which white substance they inhaled, which liquid art they injected into their bodies.
I only knew it was wrong.
When I turned nine, my mom told me that I was a big boy now, and she gave me a homemade cigeratte filled with a white powder.
She made me smoke the cigarette even when I coughed.
She kept telling me, that this was what a boy should do to become a man.
And I who firmly believed my mother, inhaled the smoke in thought that the white powder would make me a grown up. Some days after, my mother gave me a homemade cigeratte again.
When the time pasted, I found myself truly in need of the strange unknown substance.

A year has gone, and to my birthday were I turned ten, I got a syringe.
I injected its content into my body and felt the content of the syringe, rushing in my blood.
Now I finaly got to be a part of this family.
What I didn't know was that there is an other life than this.
An other part of the world, that was waiting to get discovered by a person like me and my family.

However, it took me more than five years to discover, which was to me an unknown world.

I knew that my life was wrong, but I couldn't see it.
I couldn't see the problem although it was right infront of me. Or in this situation - right in my blood.
But I got some help from a docter.
He told me which consequences theese kind of drugs can bring.
I decided to stop, and fight this war, that is going on in me and my body.
It was very hard. It was a challenge in my soul. It was a physical and a mental challenge.
I felt myself so vulnerable, so alone.

My family visited me, during the hard time. They gave me drugs, and I took them thankfully.
But I didn't forgive them for doing that, and I still dont, and never will.

I tried once more to let go on the drugs, but everytime I began to throw blood up. I just couldn't stop taking drugs. I tried again and again, pushed myself harder and harder to escape from my world and enter a better.

But I may have gone over the border, because my body felt like it was falling apart. My brain had closed down, because suddenly I woke up at the hospital.

The doctors told me, that I had taken too many drugs and heroin, and that my body very soon would give up.
That I would die.
It was just a matter of time.

It was all my families fault.
I could have been a normal person, with friends and kids, but just when I turned the age where a kid begins to understand I lost my life.
Maybe before.
It was all their fault.
It is so unfair, but it's my destiny. And its too late to change anything.
I am dying, and I would never, ever forgive my family for taking my life away from me. For stealing it.

The doctors asked if I wanted to stay hospitalized till I die, but I refused.
I dont want anything anymore.
They can already count me dead if they want, because thats i've been all of my life...

May my family burn in hell.

Publication Date: 05-31-2011

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