narrative essay

When I was little, being compared to my older brother Michael was one of the greatest compliments I could get: “You’re becoming quite the artist,” my mother would say. “Just like Michael.” Michael was smart, athletic, funny, and artistic. Of course being compared to someone like that would fill me with pride. Now, I consider it an insult. When somebody compares me to Michael, they use it to hurt me: “You’re so lazy, just like Michael.” Or even more hurtful “you’re just like Michael”. So what brought about this sudden change of attitude? Michael fell into the wrong crowd. His grades slipped. He quit basketball. Worst of all, he became addicted to drugs. These drugs ravaged his body and mind, turning my loving, big brother with the ability to do anything, into something dark and unknown. People say that marijuana isn’t harmful, that it does not damage you like other drugs. That is a lie. I saw with my own eyes what it can do to a person. It turns them from someone you know and trust, into a stranger who knows exactly how to hurt you. Drugs took over Michael completely; all he cared about was getting high. He did not care about his family. He did not care about how much pain he was putting us through. Not to mention how much pain he was putting me through.
It was like a slap in the face whenever my parents would compare me to him. Whenever they would voice concerns that I was going to turn out like him, I wanted to scream and cry at the same time. Did they really think I would be capable of making them go through that much pain, again? So I try my hardest to prove them wrong: I work year round, I’m in accelerated classes, I study hard and keep my grades up. Most importantly, I stay away from drugs. I will never allow myself to be consumed by them. What I have been given -a great education, awesome friends, and, most importantly, my family- is far too valuable for me throw away by doing drugs. Because of Michael, I now know what I want in life. He will always