I moved to Utah about 4 years ago this thanksgiving. I lived in Southern California, and moving to Utah had never crossed my mind. I was in 9th grade at the time when my dad told me.

My dad thought we would move so I wouldn’t get into any more trouble than I was. I started drinking at age 9 when my older brother said it was a Kool-Aid party. But I still drank it because my dad wasn’t home I knew I wouldn’t get into trouble. I first tried a cigarette when I was about the same age but it tasted disgusting. But the next thing I knew I was stealing them and smoking them when my dad and his new wife weren’t home, which was often. I only smoked because it kind of made me feel a little better. When I turned about 10 I got into my brothers stash. I knew what it was and I was upset, so I took a pipe of his that i saw and I took what I saw and smoked it of course. It was only weed. But a year later I went up a level I guess you could say. I started being a speed ball. Then went to cocaine and meth at age 12. I didn’t really care what I was doing because it was like nobody could stop me. Nobody at school suspected that I would do something like that, but little did every body know. I started to deal the drugs I used to get money and get more drugs. It’s like the circle of life. I didn’t like myself. I started to get lower grades in about 7th and 8th grade but they were still passing. I was completely the kind of person know one would suspect.
But my dad wanted to move me to another state he thought would be better, but now I’m in even more trouble than I was when I didn’t live here. But I’m getting better.