mania; ski/x

ten- time is dancing

ten- time is dancing

Wednesday night was the time Denzel and I would go out to smoke and just talk about things happening in our lives...these nights were relaxing by virtue of the weed involved during these times. The effects of marijuana always left me with the feeling of euphoria. To the times I felt the slightest bit of purity all lied within this blunt. All the pain and sorrow I've felt, every tear I've cried...it all relied on this for comfort; the blunt.

As I inhaled the smoke, a wave of joy surfed through my body. This was something I enjoyed, I gained peace and serenity by virtue of this. Despite it being illegal, this addiction I contrived was only ever out of clarity. This wasn't for fun, like others would say. Weed was my getaway, a drug that took me out of reality. And I couldn't enjoy that any more than I do now. However, I was sitting on a piece of wood as I flicked ash off my blunt. Soon I was inhaling the smoke, my eyes scanning my surroundings. Birds chirped high in the tall oak trees while Denzel and I were surrounded by cold air and dead leaves that were scattered throughout the woods.

"You ever gonna tell me what happened?" Denzel asked, inhaling the smoke from his blunt.

I sighed in response; he was fucking up my peace.

"Jah, you're gonna have to tell me eventually...I care about you, man. If you ever need to talk to someone then I'm all ears," he reassured, pity in his eyes.

I bit the inside of my lip, contemplating. I didn't enjoy the feeling of vulnerability. During your worst moments is when people would break through you and take complete control of you.

"You said you wouldn't pester me," I mentioned.

"Yeah, sorry...I just hope you trust me."

"I do," I retorted, my attention on him.

I noticed a look of disappoint, causing me to mentally sigh. Deep down I knew that all he was trying to do was help, and I couldn't thank him enough for that. However, today wasn't the time to talk about me. At this moment I was completely chilled. Denzel and my thoughts weren't gonna ruin that for me.

"Lemme ask you something," I suddenly spoke, breaking the silence between us.

He hummed in response, taking a drag of his blunt, soon blowing out a huge cloud of smoke.

"Why do you hang around Dexter and them?" I asked, and he looked at me with confusion written across his face.

"Whatchu tryna say?" he questioned.

"You're well-known, yet you stick to one group of people."

"Because their my people," he retorted, chuckling to himself. "I've been hanging with Dex for so long, it's crazy man. From the times we were young...from the times we were horny pubescents."

I raised my eyebrows, "you guys fight a lot, so I would've never thought you two were close."

"Oh, believe me, I hate that nigga," he responded, confidently. "But, that's my brother...he's taught and shown me things I would've never been able to do nor understand. So, I respect his dumbass."

"Brothers?" I questioned.

"Nigga, please don't tell me you think we're literal brothers-"

"Oh!" I exclaimed, laughing to myself. "Sorry bout that, this weed got me thinking odd."

He laughed in response, shaking his head as he inhaled the smoke from his blunt. I began to feel at ease again, which is what I've been needing. Maybe this break between my mom and I was needed.

"Now let me ask you something," Denzel spoke, causing me to glare at him. "No, it's nothing personal nigga."

I nodded my head in response, flicking the ash off my blunt.

"Why do you hang around Stokeley?" he questioned.

I froze, biting the inside of my lip as I tapped my foot against the dirt below me. Something about that name left me feeling regret. Which was confusing, because I didn't regret anything.

"Uh, well...Stokeley is honestly a great person. He may be weird and all, but there's something about him that's comforting," I retorted, feeling a small smile form on my face.

"Y'all cute," Denzel laughed.

I pursed my lips in a thin line, "but, there's times when he's not so content and he isn't comforting at all."

"Like back at the arcade," Denzel reminded, and I nodded my head in response. "But, I think he's just jealous, ya know? He likes you a lot, Jah...it's pretty obvious."

I cringed, "nah, ion think so...he isn't gay."

Denzel laughed aloud, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion.

"Nigga, he big gay," Denzel retorted, still laughing. "The way this nigga looks at you makes it obvious. There's nothing with that, though...but, I assume you aren't gay-"

"I'm not gay," I abruptly interrupted, beginning to feel sickened by virtue of the thoughts of my father.

Denzel stopped laughing, "I didn't say you were."

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" I questioned, putting my small blunt on the ground, eventually stepping on it.

"...Do you have a problem with gays or something?" he suddenly asked me.

"No," I quickly replied.

"Ya sure?" he questioned.

"Positive."

"Okay."

I had no problem with anyone apart of that community, it's just the shit I've experienced that's lead me to feeling disgusted with the thought of ever being gay again. So, I definitely had a reason for why I felt this way. However, I couldn't let anyone know the truth.

A/N: just a lil filler, next chapter will be more in depth, well i'll try. heading to school rn, hella trash but gotta get them grades. also my friend sent me this shit and I was HOLLERIN