As you got older, I watched you grow into such a con dent and friendly boy. Corey, you would befriend anyone, no matter where they came from.
When you graduated from high school, you had a vivid dream about studying on a boat.
‘I think I want to join the navy,’ you said. Such an intelligent and dedicated young man, I knew you’d pass the tests with flying colours.
A few weeks later, we were out grocery shopping when you got a call from an old friend.
‘I’m keen to have a session,’ I overheard you say down the phone. While you tried to hide it from me, I knew you were referring to smoking marijuana.
As I watched you leave that afternoon, I hoped you’d make the right decisions.
But the next day I got a message from my sister that made my blood run cold.
‘Corey’s phone and car were left at his friend’s house, but he’s nowhere to be found’, she wrote.
‘Corey would never be without his phone’, I thought frantically.
So I called the police straight away to report you missing.
Within 10 minutes, there was a knock on my door.
As two detectives stood before me, my worst fears were confirmed.
‘I’m afraid Corey is dead,’ one said, explaining your body had been found just minutes from the oval where you were last seen.
After a few drinks with friends, you’d taken a synthetic drug known as N-Bomb. But then you became erratic, running laps of the oval and singing out loud to God. Your friends watched you go to fetch some water, but by the time they looked back, you’d vanished. After searching for you, they assumed you’d made your way to another friend’s house nearby. But instead, you’d collapsed in the rain, cold and alone.
Shocked, I’d never even heard of N-Bomb before. I soon learned the hallucinogen has similar effects to LSD and can be fatal.
By the time you were found the next morning, there was no hope of saving you.
Not a day goes by where I don’t miss your beautiful smile but I know your death hasn’t been in vain.
Since we lost you, so many of your friends have vowed to quit drugs for good. It’s been almost three months since I lost you and I’m dedicating myself to helping others, too. If I can help educate others and prevent another family from this pain, that’s all I could hope for. I’ll miss you every day until we meet again.
All my love, Mum. xx
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