such writing!
I kept writing "Wow!" at the start of a lot of my commments, because I kept reading really creative pieces of writing. I wish Baldwin were still alive so we could send these pieces to him. I bet he would love it! In her
What I Learned posting, Traci said that most of the stories provided some kind of closure, which everybody seemed to want. I agree. And although the happy endings probably outnumbered the disastrous endings, most of the pieces were equally believable. Thanks to all the writers who created more poetic blues!
a younger brother's journal
Today my Uncle Sonny probably saved my life. I've been off drugs for two weeks after overdosing and almost killing myself. I'm eighteen years old and living back at home after getting out of the hospital. And today my dad just drove me crazy. He keeps asking me where I've been, if I'm clean. And even though he doesn't say it directly, I know he compares me to my older brother, Keith, because Keith is in college and has never had any drugs that I know of. I know Dad and Mom are worried about me, but Mom talks to me. Dad just gives me his evil eye and I don't feel I can tell him anything.
Then Sonny came over for dinner with Aunt Faye and my little cousins, DeAndra and Charlie. I guess Sonny knew I was having a rough time, because all through dinner he kept looking at me. After dinner, he just said, real casual like, "Bobby and me, we're just gonna take a little walk. Faye, baby, you go on home. I'll be there soon."
Uncle Sonny just put on his coat and acted like I had agreed all along to this walk. So I put on my coat and we got outside. It was cold! Just breathing hurt my throat, but Uncle Sonny said, "We'll walk a bit brisk now, and you'll warm up quick."
The next thing I know, Uncle Sonny's telling me about my grandpa and my grandpa's brother. He tells me how his dad tried to take care of his little brother, but the brother was murdered one night when they were out drinking. Uncle Sonny said his dad was never right after that, and he drank a lot. Just to try and forget. Sonny said he only learned about his uncle after my dad told him when Sonny got out of jail. He said that my grandma told my dad this story so he would take care of Sonny. Sonny said my dad felt responsible for Sonny getting into trouble with drugs. But my uncle looked me straight in the eye holding onto my shoulders and said, "We both know that no one pours that alcohol down our throats or shoots that junk in our veins. We do that all ourselves." He also said that no amount of any kind of drugs can ever make us forget. Just like even when I got high, I'd still think of my baby sister Gracie and how she shouldn't have died like that. I still miss her funny squeaky laugh.
That night I had it all planned out how I was going over to one of my old connection's place. I was so mad at my father and his high and mighty ways and how he compares me to Keith, even when he doesn't mean to. I just wish he'd listen to me sometime. So I guess Uncle Sonny saved my life tonight. If I had got ahold of some stuff, no telling if I'd be alive to write this. My Uncle Sonny has been clean and sober for eleven years and he was on heroin. He's been going to these group meetings and he says it's what saved him. I'm going tomorrow night with him. I'm scared. But Uncle Sonny will be with me.
