UNWORTHY OF FORGIVENESS

When I met Darek, I was 14. I really liked him. He had big blue eyes and blond hair. He was tall and well-built. He joined our class in the second semester. He moved to Leszno from a small village near Kielce. As class president, I was supposed to introduce him to our class. That was the first time I regretted serving in that role. This boy caught my eye, and I don't think he was completely indifferent to me. Sometimes, instead of listening to what I was saying, he'd just sit there staring at me. I liked that. It was the first time a boy had shown any interest in me. Until then, everyone had treated me like a friend. I had two older brothers and acted like them. I dressed like a boy, climbed trees with them, and we formed gangs. I'd had hundreds of broken windows, a broken arm, and seven dislocated fingers. More than once, I had to fight with the neighboring neighborhood. Back then, I was in my element. Sometimes I even fought with guys twice my size and older. Sometimes I was bruised badly; I remember one time they almost broke my leg. We were playing in the yard, and Bartek, from the building next door, wanted to "smash" me because I'd complained to the caretaker. He simply ran into me with his bike and was clearly having a good time. However, when he saw what had happened, he quickly ran off and didn't show up in the yard for a week. I think he was scared. Luckily, I managed without a cast. I only had to wear a bandage because I had torn a bit of skin. My new friend quickly "settled in," so I didn't have to babysit him for long. The first school disco was about to start, when Darek surprised me for the first time:

"Klaudia, maybe you'd come to the disco with me, because I feel like I'll have to sit alone. I guess my classmates don't like me much after my last outing.

" "Well, are you surprised?" I'd be offended too if you poured water in my shoes. "That wasn't funny at all," I said to my friend. "

I know, it was stupid. But let's not change the subject. Are you going with me, or are you angry with me too?

" "Me? What about?" I asked, surprised.

"About the water. They're your friends. You've known them longer, so you probably hang out with them.

" "Come on. They can be rude too, even for no reason. And I'll go to the disco with you. I'd love to.

" "Great! I'm so happy. I think we won't be bored together," he exclaimed, and I could sense genuine joy in his voice.

The disco was a success. I danced with Darek at every "free" hour, and then he walked me home. I couldn't sleep for a long time afterward because I kept wondering what would happen if it was just a facade. I was afraid he didn't like me at all. He was the first to see me as a girl, not a friend you could break a window with or play football with. I was afraid that when I woke up in the morning it would turn out that it was just a dream.

Soon, Darek asked me to go out with him. We met every day at school, and we spent a lot of time together after school. One day, he didn't show up. When he came to see me in the afternoon, he was acting strange. He was hyperactive. He kept talking about strange things. I didn't know what was wrong with him, so I asked what made him so strange.

"Honey, maybe you don't know this yet, but I'm on drugs," he said as if nothing had happened.

"What? Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked, and I felt a pang of regret in my heart that he was keeping secrets from me. "

I must have forgotten. Don't be mad at me. I don't like it when you get angry." He was trying to be sweet. "

You're killing yourself of your own accord. It's not helping anything; on the contrary, it's harmful!" I couldn't control my anger.

"What are you talking about? It's just fun. You don't know anything about drugs and marijuana, so don't talk nonsense, little one.

"But…

" "But, but. I don't know who told you such nonsense. It's not dangerous. If you want, I'll bring some more tomorrow and we'll heat it up together. Do you want?" He cut me off mid-sentence, something he'd never done before.

"No! Don't involve me in this! I have no intention of ending my life at 15. I have other plans. Sorry." I was pissed at him, but I also wondered if he might be right. Although I'd never seen a drug addict, I'd read more than once about someone who ended up like that.

"Kid, it's not harmful to your health. No one has ever died from it. It's what people have fun with. It allows you to escape from everyday life for a while… you don't believe me, do you?

" "No. I don't believe it, because it's not good at all."

"Honey, do you think I'd want to hurt you? Do you really think I could be such a brute?" He seemed to believe what he was saying. I don't know why, but I had a feeling he was telling the truth. After all, I knew a thing or two about it. Even though I knew better, I wanted to believe him. I can't explain what was happening to me. I knew it was wrong, yet I wanted what Darek was saying to be true. Deep down, I knew I was starting to break. Despite the danger, I wanted to try it. Forbidden fruit tastes sweeter, as they say. Our conversation continued for a while, but I finally gave in. Curiosity overcame fear for my health. However, I soon realized how wrong my decision had been.

After three months of what I thought were innocent drug use, my body could no longer function properly. Without pot, I felt like I was missing an arm or a leg. I had to use it every day to survive. But what kind of life was that? Now I know where I made mistakes, but back then I had fun. I was always in a good mood. I got good grades at school. Of course, it wasn't because I studied hard. After using pot, all I had to do was read the homework and I remembered everything. That kind of life suited me. I didn't care that my vision was getting worse, and I was sometimes weak. It didn't matter to me. What mattered was the drugs, Darek, and sometimes beer. I was a happy person; I needed nothing more. Soon after, I met Darek's friends. They were also using drugs. Even from the age of 12. I was full of admiration for these people. They impressed me. We started seeing each other more and more often. I failed school. I didn't advance to the next grade, and that's when they realized something was wrong at home. When I got home, it was well after 11:00 PM. Mom was waiting for me in the kitchen. When she saw me, tears welled up in her eyes.

"Daughter, what's wrong with you? You've always loved learning. Why didn't you tell me you were having such trouble? I would have helped you," she said, her voice shaking.

"But I don't have any learning problems. I just haven't been going to school for six months. Didn't you know? Didn't they tell you? Our principal loved corresponding with the older ones." I mocked her a bit. "

Klaudia, how are you acting? What's wrong with you, girl? I never had any problems with you, but ever since that Darek showed up, you've become unbearable! He's a bad influence on you!" she shouted, but I didn't listen. I was high, so what can I say? I didn't care about her, school, or the whole affair.

"Mommy, I'm a junkie. It wasn't Darek who changed me, it was the drugs. I'm the one who grew up." I have my own life, so don't start a fight, it's useless. You're the one with the problem. You see me as the brat who chased around the neighborhood with his scumbag and cried when he fell. But she's not the same girl anymore. She left a long time ago, you just didn't notice. You're just not very observant…" At that moment, my mother swung her hand, and I felt a searing pain on my face. She hit me.

"How are you talking to me, brat!? You think you have a friend before you? You're wrong, my dear! You've screwed up your life! You think you're your own boss? As long as I support you, you have no say. You have to break the habit and stop seeing that little brat, or I'll send you to compulsory treatment," she shouted at me mercilessly.

"What do you know about drugs? You've never tried it, so don't talk! And don't think you can boss me around, because I won't let you." She tried to hit me again, but I pulled away just in time. I looked at her, turned around without a word, and left the house, slamming the door. That was the last time she saw me.

I moved in with Darek and his friends. What we lived in wasn't a home. It was some old shack that had been unused since the end of World War II. Only the boys brought some "life" to it. They arranged two rooms. In one was a table made of four crates covered with some kind of rag. A few cinder blocks served as stools. That was the kitchen. In the other room were stacked old mattresses we slept on. Some musty blankets we used to cover ourselves with on colder nights... a normal person wouldn't be able to live in such conditions.

Today I saw my mother for the first time in a month. She was hanging some notes on the billboards. I didn't approach her. "Let her suffer like I did after she treated me like some idiot from the margins," I thought. I hated her for those words: "Ever since this Darek guy showed up, you've become unbearable! He's a bad influence on you." They hurt me more than the slap in the face. Why should she even know I'm alive? What's the point of that? It probably wouldn't make much of an impression on her. Then I went to check what she was so carefully posting, and I was sure they were job ads. But I was wrong, very wrong. On the A4 sheet of paper, I read:

ANYONE SAW!!!

MY DAUGHTER LEFT HOME A MONTH AGO.

I HAD NO

INFORMATION ABOUT HER SINCE.

EVERYONE WHO HAS SEEN MY CHILD

IS ASKED TO CONTACT US!!

And below is our, or rather her, phone number and a small photo. I saw a beautiful girl with green eyes, smiling. It was me, but before I started posting. I almost didn't recognize myself. Now my eyes were blue, my hair was dull, damaged by cigarette smoke, and my face was emaciated. I was a wreck. I felt how much I missed my mother, despite what she'd done to me. But I could go back to her now. Or rather, I didn't want to. I was happy with Darek, I'd already made friends with the life I was leading. I didn't want to change anything. Why would I? I was happy. No one was nagging me: "Do your homework," "Clean your room," "Don't slouch, sit up straight." The memory made me sick. I hated it. I wanted to live my own life and be happy. That was fun.

When I'd been taking drugs for a year, my body started to rebel. I blacked out several times, my nose was constantly bleeding. I often couldn't move, and my head hurt. It's no wonder. We were racing to get high. Who could last longer? I'd be high for almost three days. One guy, whom we simply called Him, almost blew it. He miscalculated a bit, but then he was happier than us. I guess he liked it, because he kept taking more and more. And finally, he did what he'd dreamed of for a long time: He overdosed. He was fascinated by death; it was his passion. He collected obituaries, which he plastered almost an entire wall in our "villa." He impressed me a bit because I was afraid of death, and he said it was the only thing waiting for him. He was right. I didn't see his family at the funeral. Only people I knew were there—all junkies. Some were so high they didn't know why they were there. One guy asked us where the beer was. When he found out he couldn't drink here, he just ran off into the blue…

One day, there was a raid. Someone tipped off the "blue" guys where we were. They took everyone to detox. Only Krzywy escaped, returning from the station and noticing their spotless car. At the rehab center, I learned that after three days, Krzywy was no longer with us. He'd gone crazy because he'd washed the coke down with vodka. I think he did it on purpose. He knew the dangers. He himself told me never to do it.

I was in rehab for about six months. It was terrible. Everything hurt, even the slightest touch caused excruciating pain. The nights were a nightmare. I'd writhe in pain, bite my nails until they bled. I had no control over myself. When I started climbing the walls, they tied me to the bed with belts.

I couldn't take it anymore and ran away. Darek and I, of course. We were inseparable. We did everything together. We heated up the central heating, and everything was fine again. The indescribable pain caused by the lack of drugs was gone. We were free for about three days, then the cops picked us up. That was the first and last time we managed to escape.

They added Madman to our room. He wasn't crazy, it was just a nickname. He was one of our own, too. But he only lasted a year. He was on a terrible diet. He was shaking constantly. Even psychotropic drugs weren't helping him anymore. Then he jumped headfirst out of bed. Unfortunately, I saw it. At first, I thought he was joking, but when I saw the blood, I started screaming. The doctors rushed in and took me out. The doctor pronounced him dead instantly. The boy had no chance.

Today, after three years of rehab, I don't do drugs. Darek got out a little early. I was afraid he wouldn't be able to handle it and would start using again. But he was strong. He found an illegal job as a warehouse worker. He saved every penny, and when I got out, an apartment was waiting for me. Our own. A studio apartment, but our own. That's when a new life began. We no longer thought about drugs. We knew what awaited us if we got back together, because of our seven-person group, only the two of us were still alive. The rest were buried in the municipal cemetery in Leszno, my hometown. One day, just before November 1st, Darek and I were reminiscing about old friends, and then I remembered that my mother lived where they were buried. I hadn't seen her in seven years. Now I knew whose fault it was. After all, I had hurt her so much, caused her so much suffering. I wanted to meet her, apologize, beg for forgiveness. I know she had no reason to forgive me, but I wanted to hear it from her lips. I don't think she'd ever hurt me like that. She never truly did anything to spite me; she wanted the best for me, and I couldn't appreciate it. I resented her for caring about me, for wanting me to be seen as a person. But the love that had suddenly awakened within me… I couldn't leave it like that.

I knocked on the old oak door. A woman with dull eyes and dove-gray hair answered. An inhumanly thin woman, clearly ravaged by life. As soon as she saw me, a spark appeared in her eyes.

"Is that you?" she asked, then quickly added,

"Excuse me, but you look a lot like my daughter, Klaudia. But she's probably long dead. She met a boy who got her into drugs." Then she ran away from home… I'm sorry to bring this up, but when I saw you, memories suddenly came flooding back. She spoke, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Mom, it's me. I know I died for you a long time ago, but I want you to know I've broken up with that crap and started a new life." I said. Mom covered her mouth with her hand. The silence was broken only by her quiet sobs.

"Klaudia… how can you say that? I've been waiting here for you all this time. I lived in hope that one day you would come back." She cried the whole time, and I didn't know where to look. I was so ashamed. I had let down the person I loved so much. But it wasn't just my fault. It was primarily the fault of the addiction that has completely taken over my life. "

And now I'm back. I'm alive, and I want to apologize to you because I acted like the last one… Please forgive me. I'm so terribly ashamed. You don't have to consider me your daughter, but I'd like to live with the knowledge that you've forgiven me. I'm a completely different girl now. I went to rehab. Darek and I. We bought a studio apartment. We're thinking about getting married. We're just short on cash right now. I've truly changed. I've said goodbye to that life.

"Honey, you've done me a huge disservice by running away from home, but you're still my child. I'll forgive you, but I won't forget what I've been through. Never." She spoke in a trembling voice. "

I know, Mom. It's impossible to forget. This is my address. If you want, you can always come over. Because I'll never let you down again." I said quietly, handing her the note with the address and slowly backing away.

"Would you like to come in for a moment? I still have some biscuits. Could you tell me what's been going on with you all these years?" she said, and I was stunned. I knew my mother was capable of many things, but for her to forgive me so quickly?

"No, I don't want to bother you. I'm sure you have plenty of better things to do than listen to how your child has hit rock bottom," I said and walked away. That day, I couldn't find my place. I kept thinking about what Mom had told me. She was always so understanding. Honestly, I was surprised she forgave me, that she wanted to talk to me after all that. I don't know if I would have been capable of something like that. But they say a mother's heart can forgive even the greatest wrong. And that's probably true.

Today, I'm happily married. The most important thing is that my mother was with me on that important day. She accepted the invitation with tears in her eyes. But this time, they were tears of joy. She gave us an apartment as a gift. Not a new one, but the one I lived in as a child. And she herself moved into our studio apartment, which we rented. My room was just as I left it. Nothing had changed in it. Except for the tenant. I was older, I had changed a lot. I was no longer the Klaudia from years ago. I had quite serious health problems. My liver was damaged, I was anemic. But I felt better and better thanks to my mother and Darek. He wasn't as addicted. He doesn't have those problems. But he's still with me and shows me how much I mean to him. Darek and I are planning a life together and having children. And we're slowly realizing our plans. I'm pregnant. Early next year, we'll be parents to twins. The doctor told me they'll be girls. When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn't believe it. It's rare for a drug addict with as much experience as I have to be a mother. But we didn't worry in advance. If things didn't work out, we were prepared to adopt a few little ones. But for now, there was no need. I was getting fatter every day, and the children were "wearing me down from the inside." Because I was still struggling with anemia, I had to be very careful about what I did and what I ate. I go to the hospital once a month for IV drips. This is supposed to help me carry the pregnancy to term. It's a bit tedious, but what wouldn't you do for the children's sake? Now I know how my mother felt when I ran away. Because even though my children aren't born yet, I already love them and want the best for them. I believe everything will work out.

While I was putting on the laundry, I heard the doorbell ring. I struggled to straighten up, my large belly getting in the way. I walked to the door and was stunned. I saw my mother through the peephole. She was standing with a package. I quickly opened the door and threw myself into her arms, tears welling in my eyes.

"Mom, it's so good you decided to visit us. I was afraid you'd never do it..." I said, my voice trembling. "

My daughter, I had to sort this all out," my mother said, stepping inside.

"But the most important thing is that you didn't abandon me like I abandoned you," I said, putting the kettle on for tea.

"And here's a little gift for my granddaughters," she said, placing the bundle on the table.

"Oh... Thank you! I'm sure they'll be happy..." I joked. "

Okay, open it. Tell me if you like it," my mother encouraged.

"It's so beautiful!" They're truly wonderful! I was delighted with two beautiful baby jackets. I was so grateful to my mother.

Since then, my mother has been with us every day. She can't wait to have granddaughters. One of them will even be named Marysia. After my grandmother, not my mother. I want to express, at least in this way, how much I love her, because as a child, I couldn't do that.

Our lives are no different from any other ordinary person's. Only Darek and I know that we are different, because a drug addict remains an addict for life. All it takes is a moment of forgetfulness and the addiction will draw us back in, and a second time is unlikely to be successful. Drug addiction is a disease that cannot be cured. It can only be neutralized, stopped, "calmed down."

I want to forget about it now and focus on my new life, my pregnancy, and my husband, whom I love very much and whom I know I can count on even when I'm at rock bottom.