Prologue

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I watch dad stand at the front of the whole crowd, mom grabs my hand and smiles fondly as dad clears his throat.

"Hi, I'm Asher." He looks around. "I've been sober now for 16 years, free from any drugs and alcohol."

The crowd applaud him.

He looks at me. "I chose to get sober when my kids were born, triplets." He smiles softly, "I needed to get better for them."

I look down.

He continues to talk about his battle with addiction.

How it started at 13, alcohol at first, his mother abused him badly and he needed a way to cope; alcohol was his getaway.

He stopped at 16.

Started again at 20.

Stopped at 26 when he met mom.

Didn't start again until she left.

Stopped when she returned, and had remained sober since.

Between that he had battles with heroin and  cocaine, but nothing as strong as alcohol.

I look back up. His eyes were still on me. "My son. I have four sons, but my second eldest, he's what steadies me when I feel my urges. He reminds me of young me, and every time I feel the need to relax in an unhealthy way, I look to him and imagine him doing it. It stops me. I don't want him to ever do what I did."

They're so oblivious.

I pull my sleeves over my wrists and lean back.

He continues to look at me as he talks.

He finishes. He walks back to us. He kisses mom on the cheek, messes up my hair and takes the seat beside me.

I wish I had the courage to ask to get help.

I stay for the whole meeting. At the end, I considered taking the stage myself but knew it would be of no use.

These are all recovered addicts

And I'm on the road to become an addict.

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