SDMN| Stories

• QUESTIONING

THE WELL KNOWN SCENT OF WEED hangs in the air behind the toilet block as Josh takes in a drag of a neatly-rolled joint. Cloud begins to fog through his busy mind and his muscles start to relax as he lets out a soft sigh.

Amazing.

As he sat, back to the hard, grainy brick, his drug fused mind wandered back to where this all began. A small smile forms on his lips in reminiscence of his first joint, the way it chased away his anxiety so easily.

If only he could re-experience it for the first time, over and over.

However, the effects gradually began to wear off as he became hooked, joint after joint, year after year. For three years. This meant he had to control his anxiety in other ways, and what better way to face his demons than to block out everything else. There were often times when Josh would think about his choices, how he shut everyone out constantly. No one knew what Josh was really like, before his facade went up, however he believed it was easier this way.

"If no one knows, no one cares." He'd tell himself, green eyes piercing through the reflective glass mirror, tears streaming down his cheeks, heart racing. "And if I don't care, then no one knows."

"Joshua Bradley. I pray for your sake that this is not what I think it is." Josh was shook back to reality, or what was left of it, due to the fogginess of his brain. Instinctively, he dropped the joint, putting it out with his left shoe and standing up.

Without reply, he swung his bag to his shoulder and walked the familiar path to the front office.

The wooden seat seemed harder under his frame as he sat outside the principal's office, being told to wait. Phone in hand, Instagram was opened. He tapped the purple rings at the top of the screen, viewing his peer's stories. Laughter and music, or a shaky recording of it, played through his phone's speaker. Another party. Why do people bother?
The image of- who was that? Josh's eyes were drawn to the people in a particular part of the story. Finger holding down the screen, he examined the scene.

Simon Minter. JJ Olatunji. Of course. The briefly familiar faces of the two stood out on the screen as they were being recorded, both laughing, graffitiing something. An orange brick wall, perhaps it was a shop?

Just as Josh squinted to read the scribbled, shakily spray painted words, he heard a loud click.

"He's pissed. Good luck."

Josh raised his gaze to meet that of a younger, blue eyed male. Although his face remained blank, his mind started to race.

Why was this kid talking to him? Did he want something? What if he wants to talk? How long before he leaves?

"Wait, is that... weed?" The male paused, examining Josh closely while inhaling. Surprising Josh, his face broke out in a grin. "You're high."

"Uh-huh." Was all Josh managed to muster, his thoughts racing endlessly around his mind. Not daring to peel his eyes away, and not sure how, he just stared, unblinking at the boy.

"Alright, um..." There was an awkward pause, and still, Josh didn't look away. "Leaving, uh, I'm going lad. Uh..." With that, the boy left in brief confusion, Josh sighing in relief and allowing himself to blink.