They only noticed when I nearly died. Surprisingly, it wasn't because of an overdose. I went driving while high, and crashed. I would tell this part of the story but if I'm being honest I can't remember it. It was really bad, I needed many surgeries to survive.
They made me get rid of all my drugs, which was understandable, but it only got worse. After my surgeries, I was in massive amounts of pain and I had hit a new low of depression. My doctors gave me some prescribed pain meds to help with the pain. I quickly became addicted to them.
I skipped school everyday, I was high 24/7, I was even less social than before, and I spent most of my time at the beach ignoring my parents. As usual, no one really seemed concerned, no one tried to help, they just smiled and waved if they saw me in public. It was disappointing although I didn't expect much in the first place.
When my mom found my dead body laying on the bathroom floor, I don't think she was surprised. I don't think she has ever cried harder though. It was hard for her to believe, my little sister barely knew what had even happened. I had been so depressed that day, that I took three entire bottles of pain reliever. It was enough to wipe me out clean.
However,everyone in my city started to act like they had been my best friends. Boys and girls from my school were crying and making speeches about my life. Grownups who had seen me throughout my life were writing on their Facebook pages about me. It was disgusting.
No one actually knew who I was. If drugs were a person they would have known me the best. You could say that drugs took over my life and ruined it but that wasn't it. I wasn't really meant for life anyways. I wasn't even real, I was black and white, the perfect definition of nothing. It was as if I was a glitch in the system.