The End

#9- Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?

May 12th

I feel amazing; I finally found a lighter. For the first time in who knows how long, I finally have nothing to worry about. It took me a little bit to figure out to smoke it, but I finally did it. And it hurt; inhaling burning ash doesn't feel too swell.

I remembered having some friends who would do this, I always opted out because I didn't feel the need to be high; I was fine without artificial happiness. But they would show me the videos from when they would go over to each others houses and do it. They would explain what they were doing as I watched. They made it look simple, but it really isn't.

You have to remember when to inhale, and when you know it's a good hit. You decide yourself how long you want to hold it in, but everyone recommends holding it in as long as possible because the weed will hit you harder.

The first time I made myself a bowl, I didn't know what to do afterwards. I stared at the full bowl and wondered what came next. I racked my brain for an hour before I just tried inhaling without smoking it. All I did was cough; it doesn't smell too good either. I took it off my lips and stared at it a bit more, just inspecting the pipe from all angles.

This time when I put it to my mouth, I covered the carburetor and lit it. I inhaled slowly, then took my finger off and inhaled again, but deeper. I closed my mouth and took the pipe away from my mouth. I breathed in through my nose, like I saw all the other kids in the videos do. I sat still, not breathing.

My lungs felt like they were on fire. I wanted to cough; I wanted to breathe. I felt my eyes well up with tears. I pushed through it, knowing that it would be worth it. Finally, I exhaled after what seemed like forever.

The smoke came out in a gray cloud. It was not clean like the daytime clouds you see when it's a nice day out; it was like the clouds that come before the storm. It was then that I realized how much I needed this. I stopped caring that it was artificial happiness; it did not matter that it was bad for me- I was going to die anyways.

My mouth was dry- too dry. I had cotton mouth; a guy I knew talked about that being an annoying issue he dealt with when he smoked. He said he would drink so much water. He said water helps with soothing your throat. Then I realized the pain my esophagus was in; I felt like I had swallowed a burning cigarette and I was crying. But I was happy too, it did not make sense. I'm happy but I am crying, what is the issue?

I drank some of the water I kept in my room. Luckily I didn't have to go downstairs to get some. I took a few deep breaths and took another hit. This one went down much easier; it felt more natural. This time I knew what to expect. I held my breath for much longer this time.

By the last hit I was able to get, I was in a haze. My mind felt like it was floating. My body and my mind weren't connected, but somehow my body still moved when I thought about something. I would think about walking to my bedroom door and my body would do it. It was funny. I walked to my bathroom and dug around, looking for perfume because I knew I reeked of weed.

It took a while because I kept swaying, but I finally found some. It smelled nice; it smelled like cinnamon. I kept spraying it on myself because I loved the smell so much. I was content just standing there, dousing myself with perfume.

Then I remembered my eyes. I looked in the mirror and was immediately captivated by how pretty they are. My oddly blue eyes were nice to look at. Then I noticed my hair that seems more red than brown, but I realized I'm not as ugly as I thought I was. I am just too thin, but I cannot fix that- we have no food.

We do have chocolate. I grabbed my bottle of perfume and held it up to my nose as I walked back into my room. I sniffed it as I slowly amble my way to my comforting room. I doused my room with perfume and set the perfume down then opened my door and walked out.