When I was 17 my father had died on November 17th of 2017. I was high at the funeral and I had bought my grandmother a necklace for her birthday on November 20th.

When I was 17 my father had died on November 17th of 2017. He was my best friend for the first 17 years of my life and I miss him every day. He had died from a heroin overdose. He had struggled with drug addiction for most of his life and was so weak to the drug. He had been clean on and off for years, but he couldn’t beat it. I had many memories of him, more good than bad even though he was not the best dad. He worked so hard for our family and taught me how to do most of the things I could do. I was so proud of him, even when he had failed. This story doesn’t really have a moral or anything like that. It is just about one day in my life.<br><br>When he had died I was so confused and upset by it. I could have never thought that he would actually die like that. Even though he had died a few months prior to his death and had to be revived by the first responders, I had never thought that he would actually die. I didn’t get to say goodbye to him or hug him before he had died. All I could do was cry. There was nothing else I could have done except for cry.<br><br>His funeral was very sad. Everyone was so upset not knowing what to say to me or my family. I was crying the whole time and loved having everyone there. It was the first time everyone could connect with me on the same level. It was nice in a way. When we went to the grave site I was given the option to cremate or bury him. I chose to bury him despite knowing how much he hated it. I seen it as a closure like a book. I can now move on from him. I can’t say I have moved on from him fully yet, but I have healed.<br><br>At the time I was heavily addicted to heroin. I couldn’t stop doing it even after my dad had died from it. He was my main supplier. I wasn’t worried about running out, he had left with a ton of dope. I was so messed up that I had done it at the funeral. I was so high I didn’t know if I cried or not. I remember I was very dizzy. My grandparents had a feeling that I was high because of my outfit and the way my eyes were. I was so fucking stupid. They never told me not to do it. I never talked about it so they didn’t know for sure. But my outfit was black with a grey sweater. It didn’t bother them too much because it reminded them of my dad.<br><br>After my dad had died I went to live with my grandparents. They are great, but they had thought that having control over me would have been best. I was already doing it at the funeral so it had been clear that I wasn’t going to stop. They took a lot of my tools to do the drugs away like my phone and laptop. They had given me some money to get something for myself. I used most of it on drugs, but I had decided to buy something for my grandmother. She loves necklaces and had a big collection of them. She had a necklace with every letter of the alphabet except for the letter “X”. She was so proud of not giving up and no matter what she could withstand anything. She was so strong. I had bought her a gold chain necklace with a single letter “X” on it. She was so happy that she cried. She loved it and thanked me so much, even though I was just using it as a guilt trip.<br><br>That’s it. That’s the story. Nothing special really, just a day in my life where I had figured out how to use drugs for something good.