Drugs leads her to sex, to HIV, to death
 |
| Selfie of the victim Patricia. |
This forbidden drug has killed thousands of lives and stole millions of dreams shutting down all future plans of the victims' parents. This white tiny thing can be your best friend at the first stage of addiction, then it will lead you to the darkest hour of your life –DEATH.
Here is another story that has been circulation on social media that has created abuzz among netizens after a certain Joel Cudia shared the story on his fb wall that has gained more than 10,000 likes and 12,000 shares. The report is yet to be validated but I think the lesson behind the letter matters most. An AIDS victim wrote a letter before she died to educate the parents and their children that anytime, in the most unexpected portion of our lives, drugs can invade the peaceful life you are enjoying.
Here is the letter of a 17-year old Patricia who have been drug addict since 14:
FOR ALL THOSE WHO HAVE SONS AND DAUGHTERS. HAVE THE COURAGE AND READ IT!.
My name is Patricia, I'm 17, and I find myself at the moment almost powerless, but I asked Dane, my nurse and my friend, to help me write this letter. It is addressed to all young people before it is too late.
I was a young "quiet" girl who was raised in an excellent upper middle class family of Florianopolis. My father is an electronics engineer for a state company. He always sought all the good and the best, including freedom I never appreciated, for my two brothers and me.
At age 13, I participated and won a model and mannequin contest for the Kasting agency, where they selected the New Paquitas for the Xuxa program. I also was chosen for a Book for the Elite agency in the city of Sao Paulo. I always showed my physical beauty, and I always attracted attention wherever I went.
I was studying in the best school of "Floripa" Corazon de Jesus. I had all the boys at school at my feet. On weekends, I frequented stores, beaches, and theaters. I enjoyed with my friends all that the good life had to offer to healthy people, physically and mentally.
Therefore, my destiny began to change in October 1994. We went with a group of friends to an OCTOBERFEST festival in Blumenau. My parents trusted me, and they gave me the freedom without harassing me. In Blumenau, I found that everything was very good. For starter, we had a couple drinks at the “Bude” bar, a famous bar on XV Street. In the evening, we went to "PROEB" and "Pavilhao Galego" where Cavalinho Branco was performing. It was a movement of people crazy. I had already tried some drinks. This was not my first alcoholic drinks. I have drunk Amarula liquor without my mother’s knowledge, but I never had gotten drunk.
On Thursday, the first day of the festival, I took my first glass of CHOPP. CHOPP gave me a good feeling. I spent the whole night "all crazy." I kissed about 10 boys. My friends put CHOPP in a bottle filled with mixed beer and guaraná. We drank all night long.
Around 4 am, on a stretcher and almost in a state of alcoholic coma, I was taken to a hospital where they gave me glucose shoots to make me feel better. When I returned to the apartment, I almost threw up my guts, but my cry for freedom had been given.
The next day, I woke up with a horrible headache. On Saturday, we met a group of young men from Sao Paulo. They rented an apartment in the same building. I never imagined that I would meet my future killer during that day.
I drank a bit on Saturday. The party was not good, but at 5:30 in the morning we went to the apartment of the men to finish the rest of the night. Everything happened, and I was introduced to the famous "marihuana cigarette" that was offered to me. At the beginning, I resisted the offer, but they started calling me, "Catarina Mask" (boring and lifeless). It hurt my pride, and I tried my first marihuana cigarette.
The feeling was wonderful. As the saying goes, the day before I leave, I try again. The oldest young man, Marcos, made rows of a white powder and sniffed them. I asked about what the white powder was. I was told that the white powder was Cocaine. I was offered, but I did not have the courage to do it that day.
We returned to my city, and I felt that something had changed in my life. I felt the need to seek new experiences and adventures. I was not held back too long before I again met with my killer, "DRUGS."
Soon, my best friends stayed away from me when I started hanging out with the “cool people.” Inadvertently, I depended on the Chemical, and “DRUGS” became part of my daily life from that moment.
I took awesome Acid trips. I smoked marijuana mixed with horse manure. I snorted Cocaine mixed with a lot of crap. The “cool people” and I discovered that mixing cocaine with blood produced a stronger effect. We shared a syringe, and the blood of everyone was used to dilute the white powder, Cocaine.
Initially, the allowance that I received from my parents covered my expenses and the “DRUGS” because the drug dealers had affordable prices. I began buying a gram of Cocaine every day, but it did not take me too long to double it. The drug dealers and I noticed that my need for Cocaine was about 5 grams a day.
I went out on Friday and returned Sunday with my "new friends." Sometimes, we got "ecstasy," danced in the "Points," and then partied all night long. My behavior had changed at home. My parents realized it. I told them they did not have to get in my life.
I began to steal small things at home to sell or trade them for “DRUGS.” Gradually, I needed more money, and, to get more money, I arranged “sex activities” programs with some old men who paid me very well. I felt disgusted to sell my body, but it was necessary for me to get more money.
Soon, my whole family was tearing apart. I was hospitalized several times in rehabilitation centers. My parents, always with all the love, spent fortunes trying to reverse the picture. Whenever I left rehabilitation centers, I endured some days, but then I was shooting again.
I quit all. I quit college, and I left good friends and family. In December 1997, my death was decreed. I discovered that I had contracted the AIDS virus. I do not know if it was either poking me with dirty needles or through the various sex tricks, often unprotected. I must have contaminated many people because men pay more money for sex without a condom.
Gradually, my values, only now I admit, were killing my family, my friends, my parents, my religion, and even my GOD. Everything seemed ridiculous. My father and mother did everything, so I'll never stop loving them.
My parents gave me the most precious treasure, LIFE, and I played it. I am admitted in a hospital. I weight 55 lbs, horrible. I do not want to receive visitors because I do not want them to see me like this.
I do not know how much longer I will live on, but from the bottom of my heart I ask young people to stay away from this journey that has no return. It is more likely that it will be regretful just as I regret it now, but I sense that it is too late for me.
-
Here is another story that has been circulation on social media that has created abuzz among netizens after a certain Joel Cudia shared the story on his fb wall that has gained more than 10,000 likes and 12,000 shares. The report is yet to be validated but I think the lesson behind the letter matters most. An AIDS victim wrote a letter before she died to educate the parents and their children that anytime, in the most unexpected portion of our lives, drugs can invade the peaceful life you are enjoying.
Here is the letter of a 17-year old Patricia who have been drug addict since 14:
FOR ALL THOSE WHO HAVE SONS AND DAUGHTERS. HAVE THE COURAGE AND READ IT!.
My name is Patricia, I'm 17, and I find myself at the moment almost powerless, but I asked Dane, my nurse and my friend, to help me write this letter. It is addressed to all young people before it is too late.
I was a young "quiet" girl who was raised in an excellent upper middle class family of Florianopolis. My father is an electronics engineer for a state company. He always sought all the good and the best, including freedom I never appreciated, for my two brothers and me.
At age 13, I participated and won a model and mannequin contest for the Kasting agency, where they selected the New Paquitas for the Xuxa program. I also was chosen for a Book for the Elite agency in the city of Sao Paulo. I always showed my physical beauty, and I always attracted attention wherever I went.
I was studying in the best school of "Floripa" Corazon de Jesus. I had all the boys at school at my feet. On weekends, I frequented stores, beaches, and theaters. I enjoyed with my friends all that the good life had to offer to healthy people, physically and mentally.
Therefore, my destiny began to change in October 1994. We went with a group of friends to an OCTOBERFEST festival in Blumenau. My parents trusted me, and they gave me the freedom without harassing me. In Blumenau, I found that everything was very good. For starter, we had a couple drinks at the “Bude” bar, a famous bar on XV Street. In the evening, we went to "PROEB" and "Pavilhao Galego" where Cavalinho Branco was performing. It was a movement of people crazy. I had already tried some drinks. This was not my first alcoholic drinks. I have drunk Amarula liquor without my mother’s knowledge, but I never had gotten drunk.
On Thursday, the first day of the festival, I took my first glass of CHOPP. CHOPP gave me a good feeling. I spent the whole night "all crazy." I kissed about 10 boys. My friends put CHOPP in a bottle filled with mixed beer and guaraná. We drank all night long.
Around 4 am, on a stretcher and almost in a state of alcoholic coma, I was taken to a hospital where they gave me glucose shoots to make me feel better. When I returned to the apartment, I almost threw up my guts, but my cry for freedom had been given.
The next day, I woke up with a horrible headache. On Saturday, we met a group of young men from Sao Paulo. They rented an apartment in the same building. I never imagined that I would meet my future killer during that day.
I drank a bit on Saturday. The party was not good, but at 5:30 in the morning we went to the apartment of the men to finish the rest of the night. Everything happened, and I was introduced to the famous "marihuana cigarette" that was offered to me. At the beginning, I resisted the offer, but they started calling me, "Catarina Mask" (boring and lifeless). It hurt my pride, and I tried my first marihuana cigarette.
The feeling was wonderful. As the saying goes, the day before I leave, I try again. The oldest young man, Marcos, made rows of a white powder and sniffed them. I asked about what the white powder was. I was told that the white powder was Cocaine. I was offered, but I did not have the courage to do it that day.
We returned to my city, and I felt that something had changed in my life. I felt the need to seek new experiences and adventures. I was not held back too long before I again met with my killer, "DRUGS."
Soon, my best friends stayed away from me when I started hanging out with the “cool people.” Inadvertently, I depended on the Chemical, and “DRUGS” became part of my daily life from that moment.
I took awesome Acid trips. I smoked marijuana mixed with horse manure. I snorted Cocaine mixed with a lot of crap. The “cool people” and I discovered that mixing cocaine with blood produced a stronger effect. We shared a syringe, and the blood of everyone was used to dilute the white powder, Cocaine.
Initially, the allowance that I received from my parents covered my expenses and the “DRUGS” because the drug dealers had affordable prices. I began buying a gram of Cocaine every day, but it did not take me too long to double it. The drug dealers and I noticed that my need for Cocaine was about 5 grams a day.
I went out on Friday and returned Sunday with my "new friends." Sometimes, we got "ecstasy," danced in the "Points," and then partied all night long. My behavior had changed at home. My parents realized it. I told them they did not have to get in my life.
I began to steal small things at home to sell or trade them for “DRUGS.” Gradually, I needed more money, and, to get more money, I arranged “sex activities” programs with some old men who paid me very well. I felt disgusted to sell my body, but it was necessary for me to get more money.
Soon, my whole family was tearing apart. I was hospitalized several times in rehabilitation centers. My parents, always with all the love, spent fortunes trying to reverse the picture. Whenever I left rehabilitation centers, I endured some days, but then I was shooting again.
I quit all. I quit college, and I left good friends and family. In December 1997, my death was decreed. I discovered that I had contracted the AIDS virus. I do not know if it was either poking me with dirty needles or through the various sex tricks, often unprotected. I must have contaminated many people because men pay more money for sex without a condom.
Gradually, my values, only now I admit, were killing my family, my friends, my parents, my religion, and even my GOD. Everything seemed ridiculous. My father and mother did everything, so I'll never stop loving them.
My parents gave me the most precious treasure, LIFE, and I played it. I am admitted in a hospital. I weight 55 lbs, horrible. I do not want to receive visitors because I do not want them to see me like this.
I do not know how much longer I will live on, but from the bottom of my heart I ask young people to stay away from this journey that has no return. It is more likely that it will be regretful just as I regret it now, but I sense that it is too late for me.
-
Whether this letter exists or not, the lesson is there. We have to guard our children and continue in fighting against drugs.
Comments
Post a Comment