(Photo courtesy of Live Science)
You don’t know me, nor will you ever, but I’m writing you this letter, amid all of your laughter, to tell you, you may have won the battle, but you haven’t and will not win the war. I know you, as I have been unceremoniously introduced to you from another party. But from what I’ve quickly learned about you so far, your reputation isn’t very stellar. I can also feel you, even though I have never used you. And quite frankly, I don’t think you’re worth the thought. I think you’re an asshole and choose to not associate with vermin like you. But you knew my nephew, Bryce, whom you must be so damn pleased to learn and to know, you killed him. You are a pathetic murderer and a liar who dupes innocent people into believing you love them. You are the epitome of evil, and you neither see that or care. Or, then again, maybe you do? Maybe that is your evil little game plan? But I’m on to you, devil. I’m on to your games.
You have affected my family, and I as hurt, distraught, and angry I am with you right now, I will never show you the dignity nor respect you feel you deserve. You aren’t owed a thing. You are garbage. Your only goal is to ruin lives and ruin families. You are good for nothing. You are the devil himself. Yet here you are, laughing at us. I can hear you saying, “But I make some people money. I make some people happy, and I have the power to take some people’s pain away.” Great point. But I will counter you every chance I get. You think your victims are faceless junkies because that’s who you see. When in reality, they are beautiful souls, who are loved, one way or another, by people, family and friends, who truly care about them. But you don’t see that. You don’t want that personal commitment. Heroin, you are even lying to yourself by thinking you are helping people, or taking away their pain. If you truly cared, you wouldn’t fight so hard to keep your addiction alive, when each and every person said ‘no more’ to you.
You see, Heroin, in the last few days, I’ve been learning about you. Things I don’t think you want to admit, even to yourself. You are an extremist. A jihadist against the human spirit. You are a lonely individual, who tries to steal company, rather than earn a friendship. You play it so cool, like you’re that immediate best friend, the life of the party, when in reality, you’re a con artist, who isn’t worth the time. Your claws are sharp, and even when people tell you to go away, and leave them alone, you dig them in deeper. You are abusive. You are a rapist of all that is good within that person, because deep down, you know you could never have that for yourself. You are pathetic, and morally bankrupt and corrupt. That’s why you’ve never taken the time to look yourself in the mirror to see that your value should be worthless. But somehow you’ve convinced yourself, you are greater than life. More importantly, you’ve convinced certain people in this world that you have value. But remember, your value is only monetary. You have no feelings, and people have no feelings for you. You are a thief, and a murderer.
Now, you may be laughing as I say this, because you know deep down there is always someone else to latch onto, but Heroin, you are done with my family. You are no longer able to cause us pain and suffering. We’ve learned the lesson, and we will will no longer allow you into our lives. You stole from us, right under our noses, and right to the grave. You dirty, soulless bastard! I know names don’t hurt you, but taking away your power can. So that’s what we are now doing.
Heroin, I know you have no care who you latch onto, and one day, like everything else, you will go away. So this is what I’m going to do to fire back at you. On behalf of my family, I’m going to introduce you to one of your latest victims. My nephew, Bryce Jaye Worden. You stole him from us. Bryce may have made some questionable decisions in his young, 29 years, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve to meet you. And you didn’t have the right to murder him. Look at his picture, Heroin. Take a look at him at happier times, when he didn’t feel so destitute and alone. Take a look what our love as a family did for him. That is nothing, NOTHING, that you will ever be able to provide. You sit there and try to convince him that you’re the only one who could love him. But it was just all a facade. You didn’t care for him. As much as you you told him you were the only one who cared, you really didn’t? You will never understand that caring for someone means you don’t hurt them. Yet here we are. How do you feel knowing this, Heroin? How does that make you feel? That’s right, you don’t know, because you can never understand love. You can never understand affection, pain, suffering or any other adjective associated with the soul. All you are is calculated and cunning, just like a cold blooded murderer. You are a death sentence, when in reality it is you that should be put to death.
Take a look at his picture. Look at him, Heroin! Or are you too afraid to do so? Are you too afraid to admit to yourself that you are just a substance of evil? Look at him! He’s gone because of you, and we don’t get him back. Was that your plan? Was that your goal? You may feel as if you have won again, but you will NOT break us. We, as a family, are stronger than you can ever be. You are worthless, spineless, and will never experience love and caring. For you, my devilish foe, have no value. You are no longer in control of this situation, or my nephew’s soul.
Bryce Jaye Worden, April 13, 1989 to July 18, 2018
Written by Uncle Dave (Scott)