by David "Alligator" Williams
David Williams speaks at City Council
David Williams speaks at City Council
File Photo

When she was a little girl with a Dora the Explorer haircut, I'd check under the bed and protect her from monsters. Now,  when I come home from work and she is sprawled across the living room sofa, I pull her long black hair back and make sure she is still breathing.

At 23, she is battling demons from which  I can't save her. As the tracks on her arms have grown deeper than my denial, I finally understand that my little girl is going to die.

Her high of choice is the deadly combination of heroin and xanax. She has gone into rehab six times to quench the thirst for the drugs but after a couple of days, she is back sprawled across my sofa knocked completely out.

She started drinking and smoking marijuana at fifteen and gradually she passed through all of the gates following her mother's footsteps. Instead of putting money back for her dream wedding, I'm saving for her casket.

A syringe full of heroin is like a gun with a bullet in a game of Russian Roulette. She has not been the same since her best friend overdosed and died on July 3, 2014.

Last week,  I approached my apartment in horror lto find several police cars In the alley. I thought for sure she was gone. A young man was carried dead out of an abandoned house next to my building. He died homeless with a needle in his arm on a filthy kitchen floor of a vacant house.

My little girl lost another friend. He was a boy she went to school with in happier times. This is why I hate drugs. I'll fight drugs and put out of town drug dealers until I fall with the realization that the only way I may save my girl's life is to help get all of the drugs off of the streets.

I am tired of watching Huntington's children die.

My pen will not go silent until our town's children are safe.