,David,

Chapter 1

"You piece of shit. Is that all your good for? Listening to music?"

Now, I could be a smartass and say, "Yes, and all you're good for is bitching" but my mom just started talking shit, and I don't want want that to last long.

"No,"

I didn't even notice my big sister, Monica, walk in.

"He also has his 'art',"

Monica held up my black notebook, filled with sketches. I honestly don't know how Monica found my notebook; I hid it deep in my dresser. The last time Monica found my sketches, she and my mom burnt them, calling them 'a waste of time and money'.

"Yell at me, hit me, just, please leave my sketches al-"

"Shut up!" My mom barked as me.

"I'm going for a walk," I announced, holding back tears, and grabbing my phone with the earbuds that were recently pulled out of my ears. I walked down the one, two, three, four, five, six, seven steps of my porch, and out into the bright sunlight. This summer didn't start out so great. Usually I'm in some sort of program that'll keep me from home, but i started to look too late, and now I'm stuck in that hell hole for the summer. Shit, I'd rather be in hell, I heard the devil likes to wear prada. I swear if anyone got the chance to know me, they'd love my stupid jokes. I don't know where I'm going, I think I should head to the corner store. I have, like, $10, I think. I should really ch-

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry,"

I apologized to the tricked out teen I knocked into.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I, uhh, heard your mom yelling at you earlier,"

"Oh, was it that loud?"

"Yeah, no. I, uhh, was just, y'know passin' by, and I heard her,"

It's weird, its like he has trouble finding the right words to say.

"What's that smell?" I asked. I just noticed it, and it's not that it's bad, it just smells weird.

The tricked out guy looked puzzled. I feel like he's like that often.

"That, uhh," he began, "that smell, is weed. Want some?"

I'm not offered drugs, or plants, or whatever weed is classified as, often so it was awkward.

"I-I think I should-"

"Listen," he interrupted, "I'm guessing you never smoked before, am I right?"

I nodded

"It's okay. It makes everything better I swear."

"Why are you offering me some?"

"This is kinda deep, but, I had parents like that," he pointed towards my house, "too. They doubted me, hated me, they, uhh, what's that word?" He snapped his fingers, as if that's help him remember. "Disowned! Yeah, they disowned me. But it's good now."

How persuasive! Well, he's a stoner, I shouldn't expect a stoner to give a excellent, high-quality, and persuasive essay on smoking.

"Isn't cannabis illegal?" I'd love to see his well-educated response.

"It's only illegal cause it makes everything better! The government doesn't want that!"

Oh boy, he's one of those guys who believes the government is out to get him. I wonder if weed will do that to me. If it did, I wouldn't die. I don't see any harm.

"So, do you wanna smoke?"

"Sure."