The Troubled Ones

In small towns, people love to talk. Every step you took, it was written down and stored away in memories.

Everyone knew everyone. It took one whisper of a rumor to spread like wildfire in the the matter of minutes.

So, sometimes tight communities aren't the best. Judgement is always right behind the corner; waiting to attack.

The only good thing about our small town, and shitty stores was that we could have wicked parties. Perks of living in the middle of nowhere.

The adults didn't really care if minors drank because, "They did the same things when they were kids."

If kids got caught doing drugs, a simple slap on the wrist would do, and the promise never to do it again. We all know how that went.

Once the apple falls from the tree, it's never too far away. There's always going to be a bit of the tree living in that the apple.

And that's exactly what we are towards our parents. Why break the chain when no one knows how to?

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The bottle in the cover is not my product.

◇Drug use, violence, suicide, rape, and bad language◇