A/N
Here is a Breaking Bad One Shot that myself and my writing partner Makarov cooked up, which we had both wanted to do as a part of testing our collaborative partnership, before we got working on our upcoming Code Geass Fanfiction project Liar's Dice that we will be working on together.
The one-shot focuses on Walter Jr/Flynn after the conclusion of the series, as we were both very interested in exploring how Walt's son life would look like after the events of the series, partly based on the interview Vince Gillgan shared his thoughts on the matter. About how the money Walt left them was a stopgap, not fulfil them etc, showing what we thought was the overall legacy to the man that did so much and a legacy that will be associated with them forever. Along with how we think society and stuff would respond to the damage, the vacuum and other stuff Heisenberg brought through the series. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did in creating it, which has cemented our relationship and friendship that has forged since we first chatted about my ff project. Feel free to share your thoughts in the review tab, as we always welcome feedback on the works we put out for you all to enjoy.
Thanks very much
Kind Regards
Quill
The Sins of the Father
Growing up, I always knew that my family was a bit different. I could sense the tension that hung over all of us like it was a storm cloud, rapidly approaching. I could never put my finger on the reason why. Now, years after the events that changed our lives forever, I've managed to move past the dark legacy of my father. Who is known to the entire world as
Heisenberg.
I was able to eventually overcome the trauma of what happened with my father, what he did to us, what he did to those close to us. Even what he did to himself. They say starting anew is the hardest thing anyone can do, when all you want to do is rebuild the past. The more you are stuck in the past, the easier it is to lose your future, however. And that was one mistake I nearly made.
My mother, who is just as much of a victim as I am, having been victimized by my father - was the most supportive person in my corner during the process of writing this book. As well as just generally my entire life, besides maybe Uncle Hank. (Rest in Power)
My mother. Skylar. She graciously opted to be my editor and manuscript supervisor. Even though I built a successful business, it was actually very hard to pitch this book to a publisher - out of fear that it would be perceived as an exploitative piece of literature given the current political landscape of the America of today.
While I have managed to break free from the shadow of my father's past, the world has yet to give up on the shadow that is Heisenberg. And even when human beings are mere artifacts, bones to be pilfered and examined by a more advanced species that will inevitably visit our ruins if we do not take measures to save this world from war and our greedy ways - there will be tales and whispers of Heisenberg in every dark cave left over.
"Flynn, remember to be honest about your feelings and experiences. People will appreciate your authenticity," my mother, Skylar, advised me when we first began working on this project on the ten year anniversary of my father, Walter White's, death.
It felt good to have her support, to help her accomplish a dream of hers as well. Her guidance ensured that I didn't shy away from the truth, no matter how painful it was to revisit.
The first few years after my father's death were the hardest. My family was left broken and it seemed like we would never be able to pick up the pieces. My sister, Holly, and I tried our best to adapt to our new reality. She was lucky, in that, she was too young to remember the worst of it. Yet, at the same time, there was no denying that the events had taken a heavy toll on our spirits.
Determined to make something of myself and to ensure that my father's mistakes wouldn't define me, I enrolled in college and pursued a degree in business management. It was during those years that I discovered my passion for entrepreneurship and decided to create my own path, separate from my father's legacy.
At first, I actually had the idea of making my first business a chain of breakfast restaurants. The idea came to me one morning as I sat at a crowded diner and was reminded of all the pleasant breakfasts I once had with my family. To this day, they remain the most cheerful memories I had of my father. And yet, the reason for that was because my father spent most of his time at the breakfast table disassociated and estranged. He never was close enough to us - for anyone to see the man he truly was underneath it all. Waiting to get out. Screaming mentally in silence.
I fantasized daily about this prospective breakfast business, I even pitched it to some dedicated friends and supportive mentors. If the plan ever got off of its feet, I would have launched it as "
Flynn's Flapjacks" - a palace where people could enjoy a delicious breakfast in a warm and inviting atmosphere. My friends' responses were overwhelmingly positive and before long, I came close to finding a flagship location in Southern California. Looking back, I was far too ambitious, imagining that I'd have some chain that would spread across a state as competitive as Cali.
Uncle Hank told me that the path to success wasn't all smooth sailing. It was spaced with challenges, set backs, and hard lessons. However, he also told me that if I never lost sight of my goal - I would always succeed. I had to think about my actual goal andi it was not actually breakfast.
My goal was to build something positive out of the ashes of my father's mistakes. And burned eggs, crispy bacon and french toast was not going to cut it.
As I sit here today, reflecting on the past and looking towards the future, I can't help but feel a sense of price and gratitude for how far I've come. It took years of hard work, perseverance and the unwavering support of my loved ones - to get me
anywhere near where I am now.
And though the ghost of Heisenberg may never truly disappear, I've learned that it's possible to rise above the darkness and create a new legacy of my own. To be the light in the dark.
As my mother and I continued to work on this autobiography, I hoped my story would serve as a reminder that it's never too late to change the course of your life and that, with the determination and the support of those that love you - as well as the people you choose to love selflessly in this world, you can overcome even the most daunting challenges.
The Heisenberg Effect
As I have moved past the trauma of my father's actions and built a new life for myself, it was impossible for me to ignore the lasting impact that Walter White, aka Heisenberg, had on our community and beyond. The "Heisenberg Effect" was coined by several socio-economical scientists and researchers to describe an event that forever changes a country's culture, economy and political atmosphere via the unintended consequences of a separate, independent market. In this case, the "Black Wallstreet" of the drug trade.
His actions were not only destructive to our family, but also had far reaching atrocities that I feel are important to address.
My father was once a brilliant chemist and a high school teacher. It was impossible for many who knew him, how he had transformed into a ruthless drug lord. His decision to enter the world of crime led him to manfuacture and distribute an icnredibly potent form of methamphetamine, known as "Blue Sky".
This product had gained a reputation quickly along the American-Mexican border for its purity and potency, which in turn fueled demand and gave my father significant control over the drug trade. Ironic, considering Uncle Hank was in the DEA. One side of our family had integrity and dignity, but apparently - my father believed in only preserving the integrity of his own dignity, no matter who he had to step on to achieve it. Everyone was merely a pebble in his path. He couldn't concern himself with the 'ants' at his feet. If he were to move forward and achieve his ambitions, stepping on 'insects' became a daily habit.
The rise of Heisenberg had a profound effect on New Mexico. The drug market flourished and violence escalated as rival gangs vied for power. What is often forgotten, in the media and in our mental health care apparatus, is none other than all the innocent lives that were lost, torn apart and communities left reeling from the consequence of the drugs these cartels fought over.
The chaos that gripped our country as one of the worst drug-related epidemics since the CIA-funded and backed crack epidemic at the end of the last century, was a stark reminder of the dangers of drug addiction and the economic inequality in our country. The unfortunate, the ill, the untreated and the abandoned were the true victims of the war at our borders.
Nationally, the Heisenberg case had become the symbol of the drug epidemic itself and served as a wake up call for American politicians. Law enforcement agencies doubled their efforts, tripled their salaries and had four times as many 'justified' shootings. The mission to combat drug trafficking took a front seat, whereas treating drug addiction had no seat at all.
Policymakers desperately began to evaluate drug laws and consider new approaches to prevention and treatment only in recent years, but we still have an agonizingly long way to go. This epidemic, however, did not just affect Americans.
Internationally, my father's actions sent shockwaves through the Mexican cartels and ripples reached even Spain, the Netherlands - before "Blue Sky" became Western and Northern Russians' non-opiate drug of choice.
Heisenberg's influence directly disrupted the dynamics of the drug trade, power balance and turf disputes south of the border - including parts of South America. Instability in the region was arguably as bad as numerous high-insurgent activity areas in Afghanistan. A war America has already forgotten.
The legacy of Heisenberg is a dark and painful one, that touched the lives of countless individuals both directly and indirectly. A cautionary tale of the perils of ambition, greed and the destruction that can be caused from merely
one man's choices. The effects of my father's actions will, unfortunately, be felt for generations to come, as families and communities continue to grapple with the repercussions.
As I share the rest of my story, I hope I can serve as a reminder of the importance of taking responsibility for our actions and considering the impact they have on others. While I cannot change the past or undo the harm that my father caused, I can surely use my own experiences to educate others and work towards a brighter future - free from the shadow of Heisenberg.
Ghosts
Finding out my father was Heisenberg and that my Uncle Hank had been killed directly as a result of his actions had left me reeling. I was blindsided, the reality of it all was so hard to process. But after his death, life became more unbearable. Suddenly, the public eye had its focus on anyone related to the infamous Heisenberg. Unfortunately, I was the infamous son.
I could note escape the attention. The whole world was watching my every move.
My mother, Skylar, tried her best to shield me from the fallout. Relentless reporters and paparazzi seemed to be everywhere, around every corner, behind every blade of grass. Even mundane tasks like grocery shopping or grabbing a coffee had become a struggle. The harassment was constant and never ending. I was hounded for comments or insights into my father's life. Which is exactly why it has taken me so long to finally write this book.
I began to feel like a prisoner in my own home, unable to live a normal life. Haunted by ghosts I wished were alive and a ghost that I wished would stay dead.
Every aspect of my life has been affected. The result of newfound notoriety. I could feel the stares and whispers of my classmates and neighbors, who now viewed me through the lens of my father's actions. Years prior, I had distanced myself from my birth name - Walt Jr. Only to readopt it - only to become, literally, Walt Jr.
Being Walter White's son felt like owning a franchise. Heisenberg was bigger and possibly even more profitable than Disney. And I was the heir to money and attention I never wanted.
I tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, but it was impossible to escape.
To some, my father was the Devil. To others, he was a God.
How do you live when your father is both God and the Devil?
I had a moment of clarity, as I was out running some errands. I actually was trying to desperately find something specific for breakfast. Bacon. My dad loved bacon. I loved bacon. I loved breakfast. And yet, I felt guilt for ever thinking fondly of those memories of eating together as a family. Knowing full well how much of it was a lie.
It was then I realized that I couldn't let my father's mistakes and the media's fascination with him dictate
my life. I knew that in order to move forward, I had to find a way to take control of my own narrative and break free from the chains of Heisenberg's legacy.
During this time, I found a certain solace in therapy. Which became a crucial part of my journey towards healing. Through therapy, I was able to do something I could not do by myself, on my own. I was able to confront the trauma of my past and understand my feelings, accept the reality of my situation without shame and this newfound understanding helped me forge a path towards rebuilding my life. Which just so happened to involve starting my own business, in the long run.
There were too many members of the White family stuck in the dark. I wanted to bring back our namesake's implied purity.
As I navigated this period of growth and self discovery, I also found the support in the most unlikely place. A support group for family members of criminals. Specifically addicts. And many of them, as you may have guessed, were addicts.
Most terribly, I discovered quickly that I had something very intimate in common with these people and it was not the general trauma that united us all in the first place. We all were victims of my father's greed and ambition. Most of the people here came from broken homes and even more broken family dynamics, relationships and other morbidities.
Regardless of race or religion, nationality or ideology, Republican or Democrat - they were all victims of "Blue Sky". My father's trademark drug was directly responsible for contributing to the system of
doom that brought despair to their lives.
And at first, I was so afraid of being recognized. Only to find out, everyone knew me instantly and were actually intrigued to hear about me and my family, not my father. For once, people came to listen to me, Flynn, and that was all that I really wanted to talk about.
What about me? I'd always think, when interviewers badgered me about my father. I was a victim too and I suffered too, but everyone wanted to worship the media monster Heisenberg had become - all while ignoring the monster he was as a normal man named Walter White.
At these meetings, it was apparent that these people were my peers. We all had experienced similar hardships, understood the challenges of being associated with notorious or even infamous figures. The understanding, the camaraderie and acceptance I found within this group was simply invaluable in helping me regain my footing. I was able to finally develop a new sense of self that had been robbed from me, when I simply woke up one day, seemingly damned to forever be Heisenberg's son.
Despite the relentless media attention and constant reminders of my father's past, I refused to let it define me. I had to make the difficult decision to forge my own path and create a new life for myself. I knew this wasn't easy, it was going to be an uphill battle and let me tell you, at the time - I had a hard enough time walking on my own. Now I had to push this boulder up a hill and risk flying too close to the sun if I ever got lifted up too high by others.
My life was equal parts comedy and tragedy.
Somehow, while the road was long and filled with setbacks, often consecutively that brought me back to ground zero - I was able to overcome the odds. It was both my own determination to see it all to the end, but also the support of my loved ones - the few that had survived Walter White.
As I look back on those tumultuous years, I am grateful for the strength and the resilience that I discovered within myself. It was always there, I simply had to unlock it. The power of the human spirit and the ability to overcome adversity, to create a brighter future - is why our fragile lives on this Earth are so worth living. And also why we must respect this planet, so that we may live longer on it.
Once I gave up the juvenile endeavor of opening a breakfast chain, truly one of the things that America needed less of if anything - I still completed high school and went on to enroll in college to study business. I needed to build a successful company. To do right, everything that my father did wrong.
I wanted the company's ethos to be grounded in integrity and values that I believed in. I wanted to prove that I was not my father's son and that I could create something positive in the world. But, at first, despite my ambition and drive - I couldn't escape the emotional turmoil that plagued me. The weight of my father's actions took a toll on my mental health, leading to bouts of depression and anxiety.
I felt a constant need to distance myself from the past, so I changed my name and even moved to a new city, hoping for a fresh start.
Unfortunately, the shadow of Heisenberg was relentless. I couldn't outrun it, no matter how hard I tried. It was during this time, I knew I had to face the demons head on and confront my feelings about my father. In an attempt to understand why he chose the path he did, I began to explore our relationship and delve into his past.
Through therapy and deep introspection, the kind that left you crying at night or more during sad scenes in movies without knowing why - I started to unravel the complex web of emotions surrounding my father. I found myself questioning his motivations and trying to make sense of his decisions from his perspective and not my own.
This process was painful. And put me in the darkest hole, but not as dark as the sunken pits Walter put others into with his drugs. Mentally and even physically. But I had to overcome this, in order for me to come to terms with the impact his actions had on my life against my will.
My father was once a brilliant and compassionate man, but I discovered that he had become consumed by greed and ambition. Opulence is the sin we all pay for.
He had allowed his desire for power and control to overtake him. To Walt, that was his drug. The rush. He was the danger. The man who knocked at your door and brought hell with him. Fear and loathing at the utterance of his name. I didn't realize the implications of him calling himself Heisenberg until years later. But it made sense, in the worst way.
From this, I was able to finally find some peace in the fact that
his choices were not a reflection of who
I was or who I would become. Walter had a choice. He chose power and evil. And much like my father, I have a choice too. But I choose the opposite, everyday.
Finally, I had seen my dad for what he was. A tragic, cautionary tale - the devastating result of losing sight of what truly matters in life.
This new found understanding had allowed me to start the path to truly, fully healing. To find the strength to build a life of my own - where I could use the lessons I learned from his mistakes as a motivation to pursue my own goals. I sought purpose with integrity. From there on out, I never would let myself lose sight of those values that I had come to hold dear as a daily motto.
Honor, courage and commitment needed the glue of integrity to keep everything together.
In the end, my journey could only continue if I understood my father and came to terms with his actions. I had to find closure and reclaim my own identity. It was time to stop being a child. I had to face my fears, conquer my demons and build on the foundation of honesty, integrity and determination to make a positive impact in the world.
I wanted to make the world a better place. For my mother. My aunt. My sister. For myself. For all the people my father hurt, without ever apologizing.
I couldn't let Walter get away with it all. I had to build a name that would outshine him.
Fortunately, I had a similar talent to him. A talent for business. An unfortunate parallel, but I chose to embrace and use it for good. I learned from his story, using his mistakes as a guide for what not to do in order to build a successful and ethical enterprise.
My focus and mission for the business was rather simple, but significant. I created the company, primarily, to secure large funding for mental health, drug rehabilitation and PTSD recovery programs. I wanted to provide this support and resources to those in need.
There was an entire system that specialized in human misery. Human poverty. If we wanted to get rid of the cancer that was drugs, we had to tackle the root cause. We had to identify the source of the sickness, otherwise people would just keep getting sick.
I knew that when I first started to get on my feet, I morally would cut myself off at th emodest salary of $100,000 a year, including assets. This would allow me, in the long run, to ensure our employers were well paid and that we would've never prioritized profit over helping others.
For every successful story, full of honourable missions that garnered praise and appreciation - there were also 'haters'. We drew criticism from several businesses and politicians that insisted we were "socialist."
This would be the first time I encountered the true scope of the scars that Heisenberg left on America politically.
The unrest that relished in the media frenzy that surrounded the wake of my father's actions and his brutal demise, the political realm of the southern-American states that bordered on Mexico exploded with a new kind of reactionary perspective. Citizens and politicians alike called for drastic measures to address the situation.
In some cases, this shift in political attitudes manifested itself in a dismissal of healthcare programs, primarily those that focused on mental health, drug rehabilitation and PTSD recovery. When the word 'socialist' is thrown around by detractors, a whole new crowd of people suddenly wave flags with powerful symbols they do not understand. Everyone was afraid that, somehow, helping our own by taking such initiatives were part of a large agenda to undermine the American way of life.
I found out years after the fact, that "Blue Sky" had become produced by far right, white nationalist gangs after my father went into hiding. These same individuals had forced him into hiding and killed people close and dear to my family. And many of their contemporaries are proud of this legacy.
Over in Mexico, Heisenberg is still the anti-hero who showed the Cartels that a single bandit could change the world. In America, "Blue Sky" became renamed "Blue Eyes" and was sold to caucasian-dominated biker gangs from New Mexico to New York with special priority. All while imitation, dangerous alternatives dyed blue and mixed with fentanyl, were peddled to poor and ethnic neighborhoods maliciously by the same groups.
The divide in America continued to worsen in the years that followed. It was more than just who valued the idea of healthcare programs that actually aimed to heal communities and those who saw them as a threat to American values. It was a polarized environment that quickly became racial, with lines being drawn in the sand as controversial as border crossings in Northern Ireland.
Resistance and suspicion in numerous states had outright hindered the programs that sought to help individuals and families affected by the drug trade, which, of course - rather unsurprisingly, correlated with worsening crime and violence in those same states.
Despite the challenges we faced, there were still many who recognized the importance of healthcare initiatives and continued to advocate their implementation. For decades to come, there will be debates regarding these programs, not all of them will highlight the complexities of the issues at hand. The struggle to balance security concerns with the need of compassionate and effective solutions felt impossible some days, but it is never an excuse to give up.
The ghost of Heisenberg continued to cast a wide net over the border states, it became increasingly clear that a multifaceted approach would be necessary to strike at the deep-rooted issues that stemmed from the ongoing drug crisis - that had finally reached its peak.
The path forward was going to be fraught with challenges and differing opinions, it would simply not be possible if not for the resilience of these communities and their commitment to finding the solutions that demonstrated the enduring spirit of home and determination that gave meaning to our unique human experiences.
While it is claimed that we are contributing to the supposed catastrophe of being "a few steps away from socialism", I remained steadfast in my commitment to providing affordable, accessible programs for those who needed them the most. The ones that the "War on Drugs" often forgot deliberately.
The older I grew, the more I developed as a person and furthered my business, the more comfortable I became with my past. I began to embrace it as an integral part of who I was. Who I am. I couldn't truly move forward without acknowledging the experiences that had shaped me.
So, rather controversially, in a symbolic act of reclaiming my identity - I decided to change my last name back to White.
By taking back the White name, I aimed to redefine the entire legacy and demonstrate that it was possible to overcome adversity and create a positive impact in the world. The past could no longer be allowed to define my future, our future. I wouldn't allow it and others realized, yes, they shouldn't let their past be the solo driver in the car that was their life.
And of course… life had a wild way of trying to take everything from under my grasp.
The War On The War On Drugs
Unsurprisingly, the vacuum left by the death of Gustavo Fring and Heisenberg in the drug trade led to a destabilizing effect on the border states. Primarily, in New Mexico and Mexico itself, but also Texas.
The disarray created half a decade after Heisenberg's death would be known as the
Juarez Crisis. It was fitting, that our nations had a cancer-like expiration date and through the selfish efforts of Heisenberg alone, he had managed to prolong the rotten life of the "Blue Sky" monopoly for years after his demise.
Only for it to fall into the laps of others. My old man was as slick as an oil spill and twice as toxic.
This tumultuous period was marked by escalating violence and lawlessness as rival cartled battled for control of the meth market. One that had become lucrative and risked overtaking even the marijuana trade and had slowly begun to replace non-synthetic drugs such as opioids and heroin rapidly in Europe.
It was everyone's worst fear come true. The United States government had taken a large shift right of center with subsequent elections and many in the government at the time didn't need a mythical "Weapons of Mass Destruction" scare to justify a war.
Our own Great Depression was here, called our lives and the WMDs were the drugs in our streets.
At first, it started as support for local law enforcement efforts that eventually escalated into full-blown military intervention and the mobilization of the Army National Guard and Air Force Air National Guard, alongside numerous augmented battalions from Army and Marine reserves. The Navy and Coast Guard more or less isolated Mexico and had tripled their naval superiority presence in domestic waters at a precedent not seen since Pearl Harbor.
The goal of this full blown intervention, supposedly agreed upon and closely collaborated alongside the Mexican government, was to dismantle the cartels and restore order to the affected regions. The task proved to be far more challenging than initially anticipated.
American military forces in New Mexico were tasked with supporting the police, DEA, FBI and ATF with domestic threats, before hopping the border to strike "at the head of the snake", as the president declared openly in their next campaign run.
The US Military provided training, intelligence and advanced weaponry to local officers to tackle the growing cartels, who proved to be surprisingly sophisticated and well-funded. Despite these efforts, the cartels proved to be formidable adversaries, who adapted their tactics and operations to evade detection and capture.
Meanwhile, the controversial and globally condemned intervention in Mexico itself was met with a complex set of challenges. Not only did the United States have to navigate the growingly delicate political landscape, all while balancing the need for decisive action against the cartels with the desire to respect Mexico's sovereignty - but to also find the perfect synergy of diplomacy and military strategy, which became a delicate dance.
Ultimately, American forces sought to support and cooperate with their Mexican counterparts in the fight against the cartels, the true War on Drugs. However, the cartels had declared a War on the War on Drugs and while America was winning on twitter, the cartels seemed to be winning at the homefront.
The intervention continued to grow in great controversy, as critics argued the United States had utterly overstepped its bounds and risked further destabilization of the region. Others blamed the amount of drug users and addicts in America as a root cause for the existence of the drug market in South America and Mexico in the first place.
The US was under intense scrutiny unlike anything before. Advisers from the UN kept their eyes and ears open wide for the potential of civilian casualties, human rights abuses and the further militarization of both nations' police forces during the conflict.
However, proponents of the intervention argued that decisive action was necessary to curb the violence and restore stability to the region. Many, to this day, maintain that the cartels posed a direct threat to both American and Mexican citizens and that strong, harsh response was essential to protect thousands of lives - as well as upholding the rule of law.
As the Juarez Crisis continued to unfold, it was abundantly clear that there was no easy solution to the challenges posed by the cartels. Military intervention, while fraught with controversy and endless complications, was an attempt to bring order to a region caught in the chaos of Heisenberg's legacy. Yet, many innocent lives got caught in the crossfire. The long term effectiveness of these early days of the "Sunrise Invasion", will remain a subject of ongoing debate and analysis for as long as this book is still in print.
One slogan became famous with the early stage of the war, that was that the intent was to "
stop the next Heisenberg". My father had become the greatest boogeyman of my lifetime, alongside Osama bin Laden and Vladimir Putin.
The Juarez Crisis eventually reached a critical turning point due to the combined efforts of the American and Mexican forces that led to the capture and elimination of several key cartel members. This development, which was called the '
Bronco Raid', greatly weakened the cartels' influence in Mexico and led to the restoration of some semblance of order in the affected regions. Despite this, the conclusion of the intervention was far from a clean victory. In fact, the immediate aftermath had exposed a multitude of lingering issues.
One of these issues, in fact - is directly one of my main missions to attempt to resolve.
The most significant consequence of the conflict was the veteran drug epidemic that emerged in both the United States and Mexico, as soldiers returned home - only to struggle with psychological trauma and physical injuries they had sustained during the conflict. In an attempt to cope with their pain, many turned to drugs, which ironically - created a new wave of addiction and drug-related issues in both countries.
The preferred drugs of choice were Marijuana, Xanax and Blue Sky, in that order.
The new and renewed drug epidemic further strained the already overburdened and inadequate healthcare systems and poorly funded rehabilitation centers in both countries, including my own. We were simply ill equipped to handle the influx of veterans in need of support and the Veterans Affairs offices of the DoD had its pants permanently caught around its ankles. The VA seemed dedicated to giving Americans a chance to die for their country a second time.
As a result of this, many soldiers who had fought in Mexico, fell through the cracks and were unable to access the help they so desperately needed. In the process of dismantling the cartels, yet another power vacuum had allowed for the rise of new criminal organizations. Once emerged, the new cartels were keen on capitalizing on the chaos and instability.
The voice was filled just as quickly as it had formed. They employed ruthless tactics, hired veterans from both sides as narco-mercenaries and formed strategic alliances to strengthen their foothold in the new drug trade epidemic. A resurgence of violence and crime, specifically, exploded in New Mexico once again. A mere year and a half since the "Sunrise Invasion".
Both countries failed to grapple with the fallout of the Juarez Crisis, it became increasingly evident that a new approach, from new angles, all at once - was necessary to address the complex challenges that persisted.
That was why I invested heavily in the bolstering of mental health services and drug rehab programs at an unprecedented level. We invested in hundreds of community development initiatives as well, to provide alternatives to the allure of the drug trade.
The end of the Juarez Crisis marked the end of one chapter, but the beginning of another. The daunting task of rebuilding and healing our communities is still upon us. The lasting impact of this travesty will be a stark reminder of the interconnectedness of our two nations and the need for collaborative, long term solutions to address the root causes of the drug epidemic and its myriad consequences.
Putting the Wicked to Rest
One of the most important and significant factors that contributed to my eventual 'success' was discovering the support group for children of addicts on social media while I was just finishing my High School education.
It was my safe space. This group gave me the voice and platform to share my experiences, my feelings about my father's actions, without the fear of judgment or ridicule. It was through this group that I finally saw my father in a new light: not just as the monster Heisenberg, but as a mentally ill individual whose problems had a profound impact on his decision-making.
Thankfully, connecting with the others who had faced similar struggles allowed me to feel less alone in my journey to heal. Shared experiences are powerful. Through them, I was able to listen, support and encourage others as well, while they did the same for me. We were all able to navigate the difficult process of coming to terms with our parents' addictions, sins and the trauma they had inflicted, knowing or otherwise, on our lives.
If not for them, I would have never sought further professional assistance, like therapy and medication for my depression and anxiety. I was able to overcome the trauma over time, to regain control of my life and learn the importance of self-care.
For the first time since Uncle Hank died, I was able to practice the ever important task of prioritizing my mental health, which played the most critical of roles in my ability to move forward.
Having experienced the transformative power of support and understanding firsthand, I became an advocate for mental health awareness. One of the reasons behind this book and my platform is to further help break down the stigma surrounding mental illness. As a nation, as human beings, we absolutely
must promote open dialogue about mental health issues.
It is true that we must end drugs before drugs end us, but we have to cure our hearts, our brains and our souls first and foremost.
My advocacy work allowed me to give back to the community that had supported me during the darkest days. I am finally able to help others who are struggling with their own mental health challenges. Through my efforts, I hoped to create a more compassionate, understanding world where mental health can be recognized as the vital component of overall well-being.
We should all be empowered to seek the help we deserve.
One company was not enough, I guess. I soon found myself wanting to give back even more to the community that saved me from my own struggles.
That is why I founded the non-profit, "
Help Without Borders" - dedicated primarily to providing resources and support for children of addicts around the world, starting here in America and across the border in America. Through this initiative, I aimed to create a safe space for those who grew upon the post Juarez Crisis era.
Where the US and Mexican governments failed, we stepped in. To give these people guidance and access to tools that will help them heal and glow, not take up needles and guns, meth pipes or grenades.
As it grew, I found a renewed sense of purpose. I wanted my work to be a testament to the power of empathy. I wanted a future where we could embrace understanding and resilience in overcoming adversity. This was the road to a brighter future.
My own personal life, meanwhile, had started to even out without many worries. I eventually married and started a family of my own. With love and support form my spouse, I became even more determined to break the cycle of addiction, anger and resentment that my father, Walter White, nearly passed down to me.
By applying the lessons I had learned on my life journey, I am able to strive to be loving, attentive and a supportive parent to my children. Children are our future. It is the utmost necessity that we provide for them and give them stability. And this is hard to do when we, as adults, are the ones broken and not knowing right from wrong.
While my father's actions as Heisenberg brought unimaginable pain and turmoil into my life, they also paved my way for me being able to discover my own true potential. While I wish I had an easier life, a more normal family and a happier young adulthood - I do wonder if I would have the same strength and resilience that I have today.
From time to time, I still find myself visiting my father's grave. An act of reconciliation and reflection.
Standing there, I tell him about the progress I have made, about the man I have become and how I am striving to be better than the person he was. These visits serve as a reminder of my own journey and the lessons I have learned along the way.
In contrast, when I visit Hank's grave, I bring flowers to honor the memory of a man who had fought for justice and tried to protect my family. Each visit to where he is buried is emotional. I am always reminded of the love and admiration I hold for him. His large, purple headstone is a symbol of the impact he had on my life.
Hank inspired me to try and make the story of my own life one of redemption. As I meditated on all the wisdom he gave me, his tales of overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles, it made me want to turn all the pain in my life and others' into something positive. While the White family legacy may forever be tainted by darkness, I have managed to carve out a path that can hopefully bring some light and hope to those who need it most.
Through my words, I hope to offer solace and inspiration to those who have faced similar challenges. To assure them that even in the darkest moments, there is a possibility of finding light and hope. I also aim to honor the legacy of those who shaped my life, while also charting a brighter course for the future and the future of those touched by my story.
The White in the Dark
After Walt's death, Skylar faced a whirlwind of challenges as she grappled with the aftermath of her husband's actions. My mother was the wife of Heisenberg and had been subjected to relentless, unfair scrutiny from law enforcement, the media and the public. We both shared this traumatic time in our lives and the burdens of these terrible secrets better than anyone expected of us.
Despite the immense pressure, Skylar remained determined to protect me and Holly, to try and rebuild our lives from the ashes of Walt's empire. She worked tirelessly in the years that followed, to distance herself and her children from his name, from what he had done.
She sought legal counsel and cooperated with authorities to the best of her abilities, at times - even being forced to admit to things she had no part in or knowledge of. Skylar surely did everything she could have, to secure a small semblance of normalcy for her children. For that, I will always be thankful. It came at the cost of numerous, endless sacrifices.
Because of her honesty, my mom managed to avoid any legal repercussions stemming from her involvement in Walter's activities. It was determined that Heisenberg, the man my father truly was, had manipulated and played everyone masterfully in his hand.
Still, life had its fair share of struggles in store for us still. Skylar faced the challenge of providing for us as a single mother. A task that is sadly far too common in America today and is a terrible circumstance that has become ever more present in our world, especially among the younger generation.
When she did find a stable job that allowed her to support Holly and I, she ensured that it had benefits which contributed directly to our education. Through her determination and hardwork, not Walter White's, she gave us a future and a lifeline to rely on. Skylar proved to be a role model for us and she demonstrated the importance of perseverance to me. I took it to heart obviously.
Over time, remarkably, Skylar did manage to heal from the emotional wounds inflicted by my father's actions. To actually forgive Walter was a huge step that took me much longer to accept as even a possibility, let alone a crucial part of my own healing. It should be noted that my mother sought therapy to help her process the complex emotions surrounding my dad's criminal life and his eventual death. I was far more resistant toward the idea of counseling, until I had decided to embrace it myself.
My first true role model, after having lost my father and uncle, more or less in the same day - in more ways than one… was my mother. She was strong, so that I could grieve a little longer, but she never licked my wounds or her own. Instead, she was brave and through self-reflection, let go of her guilt and shame that had weighed on her ever since the discovery of Walter White's double life.
In the end, she won. My father failed to secure anything for us, really. But mom? Her efforts paid off as the years passed. She gave us a secure life, was a pillar of strength, guided us through healing and ensured I had somewhere to go each day.
I had this terrible dream, that one day I would come home to find that everything was packed and we had to move again, but thankfully it didn't happen too often.
Years after Walter died, the trauma continued to haunt me in ways I couldn't anticipate. One fear that persisted was this anxiety that gripped me each time I did return home, whether it was after a day at school or a weekend away. Deep down, I dreaded that possibility of our lives being upended again, having to leave behind friends, our community, our found families. But believe it or not, I had one fear worse than all of that. And each nightmare of it felt more real than the last.
This paranoia was difficult to shake, the idea that I'd walk through the front door, only to find my father waiting for us, ready to pull us back into his chaotic world. This fear was all consuming at times, which casted a dark cloud over even the happiest of moments.
Even now that I have come to terms with his actions and healed from the emotional wounds, the thought of facing him again always stirred up a torrent of emotions: anger, confusion, even fear. Especially fear.
I sincerely hope there is no afterlife besides hell.
This recurring dream was one of the first things I ever confided in a therapist over, to just learn a coping mechanism that made it easier to get through. I did learn in that session, which was my second therapy session ever, that the fear was rational - but the reasoning was not logical. My fear was valid, because it was real. I just had to accept that the circumstances of it being realized were impossible.
But that fear was rooted in the trauma of my past and the uncertainty that my father's actions had brought upon our lives. Over time, I learned to manage the anxiety and to consciously throw those fears away. My mother and sister were a significant help in helping me navigate this improbable scenario that I fixated on so often.
Together, Holly, Skylar and I, became a united front in the war against the memory of Walt.
Now that years have passed and our lives have all stabilized, the fear of coming home to him gradually subsided. I began to view the home I own with my wife and our kids as a safe haven, where we could grow, heal and find happiness. Home was where my heart was and it was no longer a potential battleground against the emotional terrorism my brain committed against itself.
Though, the echoes of the past would never be entirely silenced. I found solace in the knowledge that we had overcome the darkness together and emerged stronger for it.
Even Holly had faced unique challenges as she came of age, having grown up in the resonance of her father's criminal legacy. As Walter had died during her early childhood, she had little memory of him as a father figure. As in, she had none at all.
However, the impact of his actions had an indelible mark on her life, as she was unable to understand the complex history of her family - that she would insistently be interrogated about, regardless of whichever school she went to.
My mother, as loving and protective as ever, shielded Holly from the truth for as long as she could. However, she began to ask questions and seek answers about her mysterious father the more she grew older. In the end, Skylar did eventually decide to share the truth with Holly - under the correct assumption that understanding our history as the Whites was essential for her own personal growth and healing.
It was a lot to ask of a young girl, to hate a man she never knew who was responsible for her very existence. Holly grappled with mixed emotions for years as she learned about the man that was both Walter White and also, the 'King of Cooks', Heisenberg. I can only imagine the anger, sadness and confusion she felt as she tried to reconcile the man she heard about in hushed whispers with the father she barely remembered and yet, some held her unreasonably accountable for. As if that made any sense.
In many ways, Holly was the strongest of us. Unencumbered by the weight of Walter's sins, she was determined to forge her way and with Skylar's unwavering support, she pursued her passions, her interest and focused on building a life that was uniquely hers.
I remember it well, as she matured, she became increasingly interested in social justice and advocacy for equality. Inspired by my own work with mental health awareness and her experiences growing up in our family, marred by generational trauma, Holly ended up dedicating her life to helping others of similar issues.
She studied psychology and social work, which made her much smarter and more impressive than I ever could be. In fact, she helped me straighten out a lot of the terminology and remarks in my writing of this book.
Upon graduation, she began a career as both a counselor and an advocate. Tirelessly, she has devoted years of her youth to supporting individuals and families impacted by meth addiction. For the last three years, she has been the best employee I ever had and probably ever will be!
The Lost Man
During the later stages of the writing process for my book, I received a letter from a man who claimed to have worked closely with my father. He chose to remain anonymous and took on the moniker of "The Lost Man", although I initially misread his handwriting as "the Last Man" initially.
I was skeptical only at first. Though I was unable to verify the source, I felt compelled to include this letter as the conclusion to my book - for it offered a unique perspective on the impact of my father's choices.
From the way this letter was written, although I have chosen to omit some details out of the respect of my father's victims, whom the writer of the letter is one as well - I can tell that he had intimate knowledge of my father's life, actions, the way he dressed, the way he talked, the way he liked his coffee… All of these details were inscrutable proof to me that he was being entirely genuine.
The letter detailed a harrowing account of the man's experiences in the criminal underworld alongside my father. It spoke of their shared struggle with the ramifications of their actions, the horror that awaited them around every corner for the destructive path they had taken in life.
The writer expressed deep remorse for the pain he caused, for the lives he and my father destroyed.
What struck me the most about this letter in particular, was the raw honesty and the vulnerability with which the author had recounted his story. He needed to tell people his side of things. He needed to tell me, to apologize to me, as Walt's son. Because so many of his own sins, also, were out of a misguided, misplaced trust he had in my father. In a way, he is more of a son to my father than I am.
The words alone proved clearly that he, too, had been forever changed by his association with Heisenberg and the weight of that evil affiliation had ruined his old life forever. This confession, if you will, will show how my father harmed the lives of not only his family, but also those he had drawn into his web of deceit and criminality - although dishonesty and manipulation, driven by his ego.
Whether or not this letter is true, I cannot tell, for the identity shall never be known. But I felt this was important to share, I believe that this perspective will further add light to the complex darkness and the tragic consequences of choice. But also, that the potential for redemption and healing, even in the worst and most dire of circumstances, is possible.
In the end, this will provide a fuller picture of my father's life. Though the truth was often painful and difficult to confront, it is important for us to understand the legacy of Heisenberg and the lessons it holds for all of us.
As I read the letter again, I couldn't help but wonder if the author had truly found the redemption he sought, or if he had just decided to end with a hopeful message of a half-truth. I wondered if he, like me, had truly managed to build a life defined by hope and healing rather than the past.
Without further hesitation, here is the mostly uncensored letter - that I have edited and spliced to the best of my abilities, as well as having contacted an expert, ex-Navy cryptology specialist to help me decipher some of the handwriting - all for the sake of being coherent and true to its intended form.
This is the first, last and final letter I received from "The Lost Man."
"
Yo.
I hope this letter finds you well. When I heard about the book you were writing, I knew I had to reach out and share some of my story with you. Just so that more people out there can understand that the choices your father and I made, had an impact on lives we never fully understood until it was already too late.
It has been a very long time since I managed to break free from the life that was slowly killing me. I left Albuquerque far behind and started anew, in a small quiet town. I wanted to escape my past, to heal and to rebuild from scratch. It was a bitch to do, to be fuckin' honest. But I guess that is how it is for anything worth anythin', right?
I was born into this world as a nobody, now I'm doomed to leave it more as a stranger than I had been when I first arrived. I got a new identity, a new name, and found work where I could. Focused on laying low and staying out of trouble. It wasn't easy, but I stayed anonymous and that kept me alive, kept me away from everything. But it was damn lonely.
Nothing in this life is easy when you have to work for it the old fashion way. But along the old fashion way, I discovered the power of helping others. It became a source of purpose for me again. I could finally carve something out of my life without borrowing the knife and the wood, ya know?
I volunteered a lot. At shelters, community centers. Started seeing your name a lot attached to a lot of them too. I found solace in meeting with those who were also struggling. Even if I was responsible for putting them in that situation anyways in the first place.
Things started to sort-of get better. I even got to talk to some really helpful people and I stopped carrying all that hurt and pain like a chain around me. I learned responsibility and I also stopped being so pissed off and mad-dog-mad at myself.
I got a lady, found true love with her, broke up once and never again. We got married and now I got a few kids. Can ya believe that? I bet you were expecting this to be entirely a sob story, but nope! I'm living proof that a legendary loser like me can smile the rest of his days.
But really, becoming a father was huge and having a partner that brought new meaning to my life, it made me cherish this opportunity to provide the love and stability that I was denied growing up to someone who deserved it more than me.
But yeah, there's no denying the impact Mr. White had on my life. When I first met him, I was just a small time drug dealer trying to get by. I never could have imagined the dark shit we'd get pulled into together. The deeper we got into the meth business, the more I saw the man I once knew as this dorky old guy transform into a wannabe criminal mastermind. And the worst thing is, the bigger his head got, the more I started thinking I was MegaMind too.
I saw it all that business had to offer. I'm not talking about the money, but the violence and the death. It became an almost everyday occurrence. If it wasn't happening in real time, it was playing back in my head every night like a youtube video set to loop.
I wasn't the best kid, the best son, the best guy before I met Mr. White. But the shit we did together… the shit we did to other people. They haunt me to this day. I've seen friends die. I've done things I never thought I'd be capable of and I was just a fucked up, useful idiot. A pawn in his twisted game that I never truly wanted to play anymore after awhile, when things just got worse.
Mr. White manipulated me, played on my loyalty and pushed me to the edgiest of edges, man. Time and time again, the hole just got deeper and more and more shit got shoveled in. There were moments I thought I was finally free of him, only to be pulled back into this shit sarcophagus.
When he betrayed me, one of the many times he did, it cut deep. Now it's something I'll never really forget and it's still hard to trust.
It took a toll on me, mentally and emotionally. I was left with what felt like a giant fat chest full of garbage on my chest. I could never lift that garbage off of me. It has taken years of hard work to get better and I still struggle with the memories of what I went through.
I don't blame Walt entirely for what we did. I made my own decisions and I fucked up just as bad as he did. But the truth is, he played the biggest role in the worst days of my entire life.
Now all I can do is move forward.
I'm not trying to save the world like you. I'm just trying to save myself and the ones I love. It's the only thing I can afford to do. At least right now.
Looking back on it… I realize how far I've come actually.
I want you to know that I am deeply sorry for the pain. For the suffering. All of my actions caused your family… Though I can't fix any of that, unless I got like, or built a time machine in my garbage powered by soda or something - …
But hey, yo - I hope that by sharing my story, I can help others understand there is a better path you can always choose.
I wish you and your family all the best, I hope that this can be a small part in the larger narrative you are creating.
See ya,
The Lost Man
But oh wait, one more thing, let me write this one the back."
"Despite all the crazy shit that went down, there were a few times that were like, funny and even normal. I remember one time, we were cooking and Mr. White was going on and on about the importance of keeping shit clean. And all organized. I didn't really care much about that kind of stuff, but for him, it was like a religion.
We were in the middle of a cook and this fucking bee flew into the RV we were cooking in. It is flying and is all loud and nasty looking and it's buzzing around. I swat at it and he's trying to get rid of it, but Mr White is like, obsessed with getting it himself. He said it was a 'contaminant' and he couldn't continue until it was gone.
It was some Mickey Mouse shit, seeing him climb over countertops, swing shit at it, destroying the entire RV in the process. It was something out of a slapstick comedy and I couldn't help but just start laughing my ass off. Mr. White looked at me and for a second, I saw this glimmer in him…
He was the guy I first met. A little bit goofy, a lot more human than what he had become later… he cracked a smile like he was Goofy and made a Donald Duck impression or something like that. We shared a genuine laugh together and the bee just flew out on its own when we opened the door to get some fresh air.
After that, we got all serious again and went back to work.
It's strange to think about that now, with everything that has happened after that, but I guess it's a reminder that in the darkness, there were still glimpses of light and the people we used to be."
