It took me almost 13 years to find my 8 year old brother dead after he died of a heroin overdose.

In February of 2008 I was 14 years old and my brother was 8. <br>He was always by himself, so I took it upon myself to be his friend. I wanted to make sure he was alright since I knew my dad had a drug problem and my mom couldn’t check in on him constantly. <br><br>He was so cute and funny. Always so joyful and full of life. I don’t remember him ever being angry. <br><br>One night at about 2am I woke up. Something didn’t feel right so I went to check on my brother. He wasn’t in his room. <br>I walked into the living room my dad was sleeping on the couch. I shook him and said “where’s Daniel??” <br>My dad looked at me and responded “he’s dead. I found him in the backyard, and I couldn’t do anything for him.”<br><br>Daniel had a number of disabilities. The most prevalent being Cerebral Palsy. He had to have a walker to walk and he was so smart, but was non verbal.<br><br>After he died, my dad didn’t report it or anything. He called my mom and told her what happened and she had to call the police. <br><br>The police came and scoured the house, looking for any drugs. They even went into the backyard to check for needles. <br><br>After a couple weeks my dad surprised me with a brand new gaming pc. Something I had always wanted but never could have because my family was so poor. <br><br>About a week later my dad had some family friends come over to the house. They were always a little off so I kept my distance. <br><br>I remember looking out the blinds in my room and noticing a big bag of something on the back seat of one of their cars. <br><br>I got some scissors and crawled out of my window and ran to their car and cut a hole in the bottom of the bag. I then crawled back through my window and went back to looking out the blinds.<br><br>I saw one of the family friends get in the car to leave and I watched them drive away. I knew I had just ruined their life’s work because they had just lost their only way to make money. <br><br>For 13 years I wondered where that bag of heroin went. Was it resold? Did it get smoked? Who got arrested? So many questions but not a single answer. <br><br>Until recently. <br><br>One day I decided to look up my dad and his family friends to see where they all were at in life after all these years. <br><br>One of the family friends, a girl, was the first thing that popped up. She was one of the ones that I saw get in the car that day. <br><br>When I saw her name, I got a notification that she had recently been arrested for DUI and possession of heroin. <br><br>The only thing listed on her arrest record was a charge for possession of heroin. <br><br>I then noticed that it said the amount of heroin she had possessed. 2 grams. <br><br>There was something strange about that number. I just didn’t understand why that was there. <br><br>Why was there a number next to the weight of the heroin? <br><br>I then found the answer. <br><br>On the weight of the heroin there was a little footnote, and the footnote had the weight of the heroin that was cut out of it. <br><br>3 grams. <br><br>I couldn’t believe it. The heroin that I had cut out 13 years ago when I was 14 years old was the amount of heroin that she possessed for the charge. <br><br>I had spent 13 years wondering what had happened to the bag of heroin that I had cut a hole in. <br><br>And I finally found out. <br><br>That bag of heroin was never seen or touched again. <br><br>I finally understood why my dad never got in trouble for my brother’s death even though the heroin he died from was found in the backyard. <br><br>The heroin that my dad used to kill my brother was the same heroin that I cut a hole in. <br><br>I finally found my brother’s body. <br><br>I had spent 13 years trying to find where the heroin that I cut a hole in had gone. <br><br>I finally found it. <br><br>It was inside my brother’s syringe the whole time.