"For a moment time stood still." I told the people in the grand jury.
 Everyone was watching me, but I tried to just look at the prosecutor. My brother didn't have a chance this time, they were after blood. Of course I

couldn't blame them. With everything he had done... I was too.
 "Was there ever a time he let you use drugs, or maybe did them around you?" The prosecutor asked.
 I didn't want to nark on him, but in a way, I was out for revenge for what he had done to us. Maybe my mom could forgive him, but there would never

come a day where I could sit back and breathe easily when he was around. No time for me to forgive, to let go. He reminded me too much of my father and that

boiled my blood.
 The wounds were still fresh, I was still so angry and hurt. I think my mom was just hurt. She couldn't believe that one of her own children could have

done that. We were both testifying that day, along with two other officers we had come close to over the period of the investigation and arrest of my brother.
 I can remember that night like it was yesterday.
 My brother has a long history of drug use, but they could never catch him for it. He was a time bomb just waiting to explode. And he did. However, I

don't think it was directly on purpose. He had been gone for quite some time, maybe a week or so. We all knew where he went, it wasn't some big shocker when we

found out. There was a bigger city close by, and he always did runs back and forth for drugs. This time was no different. He was there and calling us non-stop.

Always asking for money, he wanted money for a hotel, he would tell us. We knew it was for drugs. When my mom found out my brother was stealing checks from

her, we got this ilaborate story. Two detectives were black mailing my brother over a death that happened due to bad drugs being sold. They were going to pin it

on him unless he paid them. We were scared enough, maybe even stupid enough, to believe him. As time went by and more and more checks were taken, we knew

he was lying. My brother took off to this big city just before my mom could call the police and report the goings-on. We were frightened, but never thought we

would get hurt by him, not like we did.
 He ran off to the city and stayed there for awhile. My brother would call periodically and ask for money. It was hard for mom to say no. And when he

called from a pay phone not far from our house, asking for help... she didn't say no. He warned her not to involve the police, if they came he would kill them, he

had a gun. My mom didn't really listen to him, she didn't want anyone to get hurt, but she had to warn the police that he was back. She called the main detective on

the case and told him what was going on. She made him promise that he would let her get my brother help. She just wanted him to get better, and she was sure he

really meant it this time.
 The officer told her that as long as he was going to get help, he would let her do that. My mom quickly got her things together and started to leave.
 "You know there's no way I'm letting you go alone." I told her.
 "You really shouldn't, I can do this..."
 "No. Absolutely not. Don't even try to talk me out of this." I replied.
 We both silently walked out into the cold, and unusually dark night. It felt like our surroundings were caving in on us, crushing our spirits. I was

terrified, not understanding what an addiction to a drug was like. I had seen it over and over again with my brother. He had so many addictions to so many things.

Since he was four he had been under so much stress. The beatings and put downs were constantly coming from my father. I blame some of this on my father. He

was a very troubled man, which led to the troubled son he made.
 As we drove into the gas station, we saw him. He was standing near a pay phone, waiting on mom, most likely not expecting me to be there. The look in

his eyes was frieghtning. I can only compare it to pure insanity.
 He got in the car, and for a moment time stood still. It was quiet, an uneasy silence.
 "I need you to take me somewhere," He told us.
 "I know, we're going to the hospital, everything is going to be okay."
 "Did you get the money?" He asked.
 "Yes." Mom replied.
 "You don't understand though, you need to take me to this dudes house." He said. 
 "What? No! We're going to the hopital to get you help."
 "No, you aren't... you're taking me to that house! Now!" He yelled.
 "I swear to god I'll kill us all! I want out of here! Pull over!"
 "You want me to drop you off? Fine!" Mom yelled as she pulled over beside the police station.
 I'm sure my brother made some diragotry remark as he quickly got out of the car and began running down the street. It seemed like it took him forever

to get down the road. His eyes were wild, dangerous, unpredictable. It was a deer in the headlights look. I could feel the sense of betrayl and fright dripping off of

him. The angry words were still buzzing around my head.
 We waited in the car until he was out of sight, until we couldn't see him anymore. My heart was sinking deep into my chest, I felt as scared as he did. We

got out of the car, trying to run to the police station. We got inside the door and unpatienly waited until we were buzzed in to the building.
 Once we got to the front desk, we both started spewing out every vile thing that was said and done.
 The officer took our statements calmly. He called for another officer to come to talk to us, someone that could tell us what we needed to do.
 "Go home and try not to worry... You probably won't see him again tonight." The officer told us.
 I admired his reassurance, he came by it natuarlly. Only now have I found that they are all accomplished liars. When we needed help, when my brother

needed help... it wasn't for our benefit, it was there's that they were worried about. Their image, their justice, their way that everyone else had to abide by. They

didn't do us any favors.
 Now that I've climbed off of my soap box, I'll continue with my story.
 We didn't go home straight away. Mom wanted to check on the my brothers kids and girl-friend first. We drove to the house and sat in her bedroom and

talked. The kids ran in and out, trying to figure out what was really going on. We comforted each other, we let each other know we were in it together.
 After we spoke and decided everything was going to be okay, everything would work out, we went home. We were supposed to keep my niece that

night, thank God we didn't.
 Mom pulled in the driveway, we looked at the house as if we were the robber entering an unknown place. We were scared, unaware of the evil working

inside. That may seem like a terrible thing to say about your own family member, but drugs do make a person evil. They completely change.
 We walked to the door, unlocked it and went inside.
 "I can't believe I left the backdoor unlocked." My mom commented as we both looked at it.
 We knew then, we just knew.
 My brother walked out of the bathroom and simply said, "Yea, you did."
 The chaos insued right away. There was yelling and threats and anger being hurled around the room.
 "Give me the money." My brother demanded.
 "No! I don't even have it anymore!" Which was true, she didn't have it, I did.
 Mom sat down at the kitchen table, she was tired and drained. The yelling continued as mom and I began to notice that all the phones were gone,

unplugged, empty. We didn't have a way to call out for help... or did we?
 I saw my cell phone sitting on the counter, I knew I had to take the oppurtunity. My brother got his own oppurtunity. He saw my moms purse and

grabbed it. He ran towards the front door, my mom blocked it as she screamed and cried and begged for him to stop. He wouldn't. They say that sometimes when a

person is messed up on drugs, it's almost like they have super-human strength. I think my brother did that night. When he realized he couldn't get out of front

door, he ran towards the back. I tried to block him, but he completely ran over top of me. He got five years of a prison term for that, which they knocked down to

five years of probation. With the warning that if he did anything, absolutely anything, he would be in jail for the remainder.
 As he ran over me, I grabbed the purse strap and held on while I was screaming my address to the police.
 "Come on! Come on! We need you now.... I swear to God I'll kill you!" I'm sure the police got mixed messages while I was yelling. It didn't matter, they

were too late. My brother had ran out of the back door leaving me half inside and half out. The screen door was ripped off of the henges and I laid there with only

the purse strap in my hand.
 "Mother fucker! I swear to God I'll kill you my damn self!" I screamed after him.  
 I got to my feet, showing my mom the purse strap. I held it tightly in my hand, scared, angry, furious. I hated him, I wanted to see him crucified at that

moment.
 The police showed up five minutes too late.
 My brother was on the run for several days. I stayed up nights gripping a metal baseball bat, waiting for my chance to confront him. I didn't sleep,

Icouldn't. Not after that.
 They found him later, he was with a friend getting ready to head to Florida.
 I harbored anger for such a long time, not realizing that I was only hurting myself. He didn't need anger, he needed forgiveness and comfort. I didn't

have that in myself at that time.
 As the years have passed, he really hasn't changed. He is off of drugs and doing better. But I don't think he could hold a job if his life depended on it.

Recently, he has been sentenced to two years in prison for hanging around one of his friends that is a felon and not paying court fines. How stupid can someone

be? It was a desperate attempt to throw him away and not worry about him for the next two years. Out of all the things my brother has done, I find this pety and

pure game playing. The prosecutor is still out for blood, so are the judge and police officers.
 For a moment time stood still. And then it flew by.

"God makes it rain." She said to me in complete innocence.
 It was dark out and getting late. My niece smiled at me as we stopped at the stop light. Smiling back, I realized how faithful that statement was. She wasn't just saying, "Oh, it's raining out and God does that."
 No, to me she was identifying "His" power. She recognized that the wonderous things of this earth, it was all a plan, perfect law. It all makes since when you're young. As my favorite movie said, when you're younger your cup (faith) is small and doesn't require much to fill it. But as you grow older your cup gets bigger and it's hard to fill. So what do we do? Some work harder to fill the cup, while the rest of us sit on the side lines, unsure, uncaring. We sit in misery half of the time because we don't know how to reach God.
 I attended a Christian school for three years, and in those three years I learned so very much. At the time I didn't realize or understand what was going on inside of me. I was absolutely horrified at their conduct and appearances to the outside world. Christians are supposed to be loving, understanding, courageous. However, all I saw was a bunch of lowly cowards that didn't have a kind word to spare. The one thing I remember like it was yesterday, plays over and over again in my head.
 "You're not Christian enough." The ditzy blonde told me.
 I couldn't believe what was coming out of her mouth. And all I had to say was curse words, so I kept my mouth shut while I quietly cried. Each girl at a time approached me to throw in their two cents.
 "I mean... I don't agree with her, but I understand what she means." Sarah was a complete moron and follower. She didn't know her ass from a hole in the ground.
 I couldn't believe what they were doing, turning against me, collaborating. What I didn't know then was that I was learning something. Then, it just felt like someone was crushing my heart. Three long, painful, years of hell. I was becoming insane and angry. It was all of the time, I felt like someone was choking me... tearing me apart every day.
 I started to cut myself, every time I felt angry, hurt, or betrayed. It was like food to a heavy person, it gave me relief, if only for a moment. The cutting turned into suicide attempts, four of them to be exact. I took over ninety pills each time, I wasn't playing around. The first two were the worst. I didn't fear death, I didn't question it. The pills sank into my stomach and took over. At my second trip to the psych ward, they over medicated me. I had seizure-like symptoms, hallucinations, audio and visual. I sat in my doctors office, my neck started to turn and I wasn't doing it. My hands clung to the sides of the chair, I was going crazy- I had to be. It couldn't really be happening, I had never known anyone who went through that, I had never been educated about it. I had no idea of what I was in for.
 I quickly told my mom what was happening to me, she looked puzzled, even being a medical person, it couldn't help us now. I got back to the doctor and sat quietly as my mother explained what was going on in our world. My back began to arch, slowly, steadily, moving backwards and scaring me to death.
 "What's happening to me?" I asked in horror.
 The doctor sat in silence for a moment as my back continued to arch until my head was close to touching my back. That's when the audio and visual hallucinations kicked in. I saw a lizard on my moms arm, a picture broke apart and said something completely different than what was there. I was more intrigued than scared, it was beautiful at first. Everything was calm and collected at that time.
 "Just hang on, I'll give you some a perscription, you take it as soon as you get it." The doctor called ahead to the pharmacy, making sure they would have it as soon as we got there.
 Walking out of the office, I noticed a picture moving, it was a waterfall. The water was moving and I could hear the water running down. It was pleasant, not scary. At the time, I was completely out of it.
 "I don't understand why I need this medicine. It's not scary, it's not." I told my mom.
 "You don't understand, the hallucinations are going to get worse, a lot worse."
 We made it outside with no incident, everything was fine until my legs gave out. I was walking and then... I just dropped to the ground. My mom grabbed my arm, trying to lift me up. There was no way she could carry me. An older man and woman were walking towards us, as they saw me fall they began to run to us. The man grabbed me around my shoulders as his wife got on the other side and lifted my legs. He must have been very strong, I'm no light weight. My mom got to the car and unlocked the door, the woman and man carefully got me into the car, making sure I was okay they quietly left, not wanting to take any applause or kind words. Good, amazing people that felt they were just doing the right thing. They didn't want praise, they were just doing God's will. They must have been angels sent to us. I've never come across such wonderful people than I have in this area.
 After things calmed down and I was feeling back to normal, I told my mom something I had been pondering for quite some time.
 "I only had a brief time of complete loss of control. I would smash someone who talked trash about the mentally handicaped. I understood, for a brief moment. I can't even imagine what a lifetime of that would be like."
 I valued life, my freedom of motion. However, it didn't last. I was soon back in the hospital, two more times. I spent the third trip in a psych ward that could count as a prison. It wasn't a good experience. My last, and final trip I went from angry to sad to desperate in a matter of minutes. My mom and I had had a fight, I was angry and that drove me to feeling like I was lost. I don't have any friends, not one. I was upset and pissed and then it led to taking pills, just wanting out of the situation. I told God that I was done, I told Him that I didn't want anymore to do with this world. I was finished.
 I layed in my bed, thinking to myself, this is it. I'm as good as dead. Part of me wanted to run screaming into my mom's room and beg for help. The other part of me was stubborn and incomplete. I got up out of bed and sat at the window in my room. It overlooked the backyard, where I had spent so many good times with family and friends. I never thought it would end that way. I sat quietly, wondering what would happen when I died. Would anyone care? Would my mom or God forgive me?
 I didn't know, but I was going to find out.
 I went back to my bed, laid down and closed my eyes. Hours later, I hit the floor. Completely dropped off of my bed and hit face down. I laid there, wondering what was going to happen. I couldn't get up, but I was awake. I struggled and struggled to get up on my feet, my efforts were futile though. My mind was spinning around and 'round. I was confused, sedated, aware but unaware. My mind went blank, complete darkness. As I waited to be thrown into the depths of hell, I saw a very bright light at the end of a long tunnel. I know, very cliche. But it's what I saw. I crawled through the small tunnel, searching for the light.
 "Katie, I will never turn you away." The voice wasn't male or female, not young or old. Just a voice, and I knew who it was. I heard it, I know it. I wanted to scream out, I wanted to ask for His guidance and comfort, but I knew I already had it. He has confidence in me, so I strive on.
 "The Word of God for the people of God." My head snapped up from my Bible.
 "Thanks be to God."
 I sat quietly in the church, trying not to fidget or stress out. Ever since the Christian school incident, I had a problem with Christians in general. They seemed backwards and misplaced in society. I don't love what the people have done to this earth, I don't really admire humans because we're all falible. I hold my trust in God, Creator, Yaweh, Allah. Whatever you call "Him", He's there and that's where I stand.
 It's raining right now, the sound is amazing. I love the sound of rain hitting the pavement or our tin shutters. It's a peaceful noise that leaves me breathless. My niece comes into my mind again. I don't think there's one day that she doesn't pass through my mind. I am a proud aunt of three. The first time I looked into my nieces eyes, I knew there was a God. I held her in my arms for the first time, the little five pound baby. I put her hand in mine and welcomed her into the world. God blessed me that day, he gave me a reason to live. If nothing else works out for me, I always have them. I want to strive to see them grow, to see them complete things, to reach the stars. I want them to find their own way, to find the light at the end of the tunnel.
 I may not be the typical church go-er, but I will have my faith and nothing will break it now. Experience after experience, I have learned the same lessons in different ways.
 "Every problem is a seed of oppurtunity."
 God gives us the strength to go on with our lives, no matter what. It says in the Bible that he will not give us anything we can't handle. I believe that. Even as hard as it got in my life, I have lived on. I have made differences, I have turned problems into lessons and life changing moments.
 "The Word of God for the people of God."
 "Thanks be to God."