It will happen. And it will happen soon. You'll be at a party or at a friend’s house or hanging out in the bleachers after school. Someone will pull out some beer or liquor or dope. The bravado you need to survive in middle school and high school will kick in, and you’ll take the dare. Maybe that will be the end of it.
Maybe you will enjoy it a lot. And maybe you’ll keep smoking dope or drinking or taking the drugs offered you. And maybe one day you’ll get into a friend’s car, and she’ll have her bravado on, and you’ll be wearing yours, and you’ll all know that she’s fine. Everything is fine.
Don’t do it.
Don’t do it.
Through the haze of being wasted, I want you to hear your mom telling you, “Don’t do it.”
Maybe nothing will happen the first time you do. Maybe nothing will ever happen if you do.
Or maybe something unimaginable to you, to me, to all of those who love you, will happen.
Don’t do it, kids. I can’t bear a life lived out without you in it.
[Five juniors from a nearby high school skipped school on Friday and went out partying before noon. One was dead at the scene. Two are very critically injured. One is improving. One is under arrest. My oldest two are in middle school. By the time they come to the juncture I fear, this event will have long left their psyches. It’ll never leave those boys’ mothers’ psyches.]