A

Falling Under Drugs.

Dear someone unknown,

I walked among the hallways of Calexico High School, silently thinking to myself that this will be a year when the gates of hell open wide. Holding nothing back and allowing fear to slip away. This is a mastery of archery, where my target is appreciating all of my mistakes that almost knocked me off balance. Times where 'That was a close one' went wrong. I'll continue to live as a carefree spirit, fearlessly having no regrets, and I'll stay hungry to explore the new.

The little that shined on from August 2014 (The only moments that remain on my memory bank) Is the drastic transformation of Gustavo Nunez. Early mornings where he snuck out of his home. Biking long miles during early hours of dawn at 4:30AM. All to eat breakfast at Mac Donald's, to bike across down town. We bonded closer throughout our hard training. Running up throughout the border of Mexico, along the river banks of The Great American Canal, and near the cemetery. Together we joined Track and Field, drama club, and smoked our first Citrus flavored Hookah pens. At the beginning change held good intentions. He succeeded in losing over fifty pounds. That boosted his self image and kept him far from his anxiety attacks.

~Yours Truly,

Authors Note of Reflection:
By the end of sophomore year the changes quickly morphed into a bad turning point. New roads that he choose and that I won't have a chance to see. The decline of our imprinting is tumbling down due to the scent of weed. His intoxicated body, red blood shot eyes, and slurred laughter shows me that it's time for us to part our ways. I gave him my word that if he were to fall under the consumption of drugs then I'll permanently erase myself from his life. I'm gone and we'll both be happy. Mumbling our classic catch phrase, 'I don't give a fuck anymore.' He didn't consider our treaty, if so, then his free will went forward anyways. So screw this lose shredded asshole I'm done with this piece of shit.