Inhale, Exhale
Inhale, Exhale
Carefully I withdrew a small plastic baggy from the pocket of my sweater. I turned away from the slight breeze as I opened the little bag the sweet fragrance filled my nostrils. After a few moments I put my two fingers in the bag and pinched a small amount of the greenish brown herb between my fingers. Just as carefully I pulled my hand out of the bag then proceeded to place it into the little bong that I had resting on my lap. I packed the weed down probably earning a disapproving look as I shut the little bag but continued to leave it on the forest floor.
“Christina,” My sister started off in a dangerous tone as I rolled my eyes, ignoring her. She was the goody two shoes in the family. At fourteen years old she had never had a sip of alcohol nor touched a cigarette or any drug and as for me at the age of fifteen? Well I had done all those things, and more.
“Jennie,” I started off in an equally dangerous tone before placing the bong up to my mouth covering the choke with my thumb as I used my other hand holding my blue Bic to light the weed. I inhaled the smoke, taking in as much as my lungs could hold before pulling the bong that was still smoking away from me. Slowly I counted to eight before exhaling the smoke, watching as it floated through the air curling as they dispersed.
“I don’t see why you’re doing this your just killing yourself.” Jennie told me as I offered the still smoking bong to her. She shook her head furiously of course sometimes I didn’t know why I even bothered.
“I’m gonna die sooner or later.” Was my reply as I placed the bong back against my lips and took another deep breath, maybe I would be able to get another hoot out of the still slightly smoking bong without having to relight it. I managed to suck a little more smoke into my lungs before I stopped, again counting to eight until I exhaled the smoke, letting it curl upwards before dispersing in the air.
“But this is going to kill you sooner, and it makes you stupid.” Jennie told me as I rolled my eyes at her again.
“Great description, ‘makes you stupid.’” I said sarcastically quoting what she had just said with a giggle. I was high, quite high at that, and I had only taken two hoots, I still had probably at least another couple of hoots to take, easily.
“Well it does, listen to yourself! It makes you sound like an absolute idiot.”
Jennie told me as I let out another giggle. I didn’t feel fucked up, I just felt like I wasn’t all there, in the simplest term to describe it.
“That’s because I’m high.” I said slowly like I had to think about what I was saying while the words were coming out of my mouth. I looked at Jennie who had an expression like she was victorious for god knows what reason.
“Exactly being high makes you stupid.” Jennie said as she watched me take another hoot before letting out a cough as the smoke left my lips. I coughed again harder this time, I could almost still taste the pot in my mouth, like some of the smoke was still lodged in my throat.
“It doesn’t make you stupid.” I argued as she gave me a skeptical look while she plucked a blade of grass from the dirt.
“Are you sure about that? Because it sounds like it does, and from what the teachers told us in school it does things to your brain as well.” Jennie said as she twirled the blade of grass between her fingers. Of course the teachers told her it was bad, so she would listen, this just backed up the fact that she was a goody two shoes. I opened my mouth to cut her off but she kept going. “They said that it messes with stuff and it’s illegal and that it messes with how you speak and that it’s like being drunk, and it makes people do stupid things and that people who don’t know how to cope any other way do pot.” She said finishing up as I froze. She was talking about our dad who had passed away last year. It hadn’t been a sudden thing; he had a heart murmur, which basically meant that he could potentially die at any time. He had been on medication and had surgeries but to no avail. It didn’t seem to help, so when he had died last year, it hadn’t been something that we weren’t expecting, had it been sad, yes. Had it been everything like when you did lose someone you loved? Yes.
“I’m not doing it because I don’t know how to cope with Dad’s death.” I half growled as I toyed with the lighter in one hand, debating if I wanted to take another hoot or let the pot go to waste.
“I never said you wer-“ My sister said as I cut her off, my voice filled with venom.
“I’m not doing it for anything like that, I have coped with dad’s death, I’ve done all that stuff. Did you ever think that I was doing it for a different reason then what your fucking teachers say?” I asked, half wondering myself where I was going with all that.
“No.” She said in a small tone, like she was about to cry because I had brought up Dad. I was over it, not completely over it but over it enough that I could talk about him without bursting into tears, unlike Jennie.
“Why do people smoke cigarettes?”
“Because they’re addicted to them?”
“No try again,” I said, sure that could be the partial reason, but that wasn’t the reason that I was looking for to prove my point.
“Because they like the way that they taste?” Jennie tried again sounding a little bit more hopeful.
“No. Wrong again.” I said, starting to get fed up with her, I thought I knew what a good way to prove my point was, but it had to come from her and not from me because then she couldn’t argue it.
“I don’t know, because people do it so they’re not stressed?” Jennie said sounded extremely flustered as I gave her a half-assed smile.
“Exactly, I bet you didn’t think about it that way.” I told her as I put the bong up to my lips again before moving it away. Maybe not now, after this so called conversation was finished I would, but not now.
“No I didn’t.” She said as I shot her another smirk before placing the bong up to my lips and lighting it, taking in another breath. Now as far as I was concerned this conversation was over.
“Christina,” My sister started off in a dangerous tone as I rolled my eyes, ignoring her. She was the goody two shoes in the family. At fourteen years old she had never had a sip of alcohol nor touched a cigarette or any drug and as for me at the age of fifteen? Well I had done all those things, and more.
“Jennie,” I started off in an equally dangerous tone before placing the bong up to my mouth covering the choke with my thumb as I used my other hand holding my blue Bic to light the weed. I inhaled the smoke, taking in as much as my lungs could hold before pulling the bong that was still smoking away from me. Slowly I counted to eight before exhaling the smoke, watching as it floated through the air curling as they dispersed.
“I don’t see why you’re doing this your just killing yourself.” Jennie told me as I offered the still smoking bong to her. She shook her head furiously of course sometimes I didn’t know why I even bothered.
“I’m gonna die sooner or later.” Was my reply as I placed the bong back against my lips and took another deep breath, maybe I would be able to get another hoot out of the still slightly smoking bong without having to relight it. I managed to suck a little more smoke into my lungs before I stopped, again counting to eight until I exhaled the smoke, letting it curl upwards before dispersing in the air.
“But this is going to kill you sooner, and it makes you stupid.” Jennie told me as I rolled my eyes at her again.
“Great description, ‘makes you stupid.’” I said sarcastically quoting what she had just said with a giggle. I was high, quite high at that, and I had only taken two hoots, I still had probably at least another couple of hoots to take, easily.
“Well it does, listen to yourself! It makes you sound like an absolute idiot.”
Jennie told me as I let out another giggle. I didn’t feel fucked up, I just felt like I wasn’t all there, in the simplest term to describe it.
“That’s because I’m high.” I said slowly like I had to think about what I was saying while the words were coming out of my mouth. I looked at Jennie who had an expression like she was victorious for god knows what reason.
“Exactly being high makes you stupid.” Jennie said as she watched me take another hoot before letting out a cough as the smoke left my lips. I coughed again harder this time, I could almost still taste the pot in my mouth, like some of the smoke was still lodged in my throat.
“It doesn’t make you stupid.” I argued as she gave me a skeptical look while she plucked a blade of grass from the dirt.
“Are you sure about that? Because it sounds like it does, and from what the teachers told us in school it does things to your brain as well.” Jennie said as she twirled the blade of grass between her fingers. Of course the teachers told her it was bad, so she would listen, this just backed up the fact that she was a goody two shoes. I opened my mouth to cut her off but she kept going. “They said that it messes with stuff and it’s illegal and that it messes with how you speak and that it’s like being drunk, and it makes people do stupid things and that people who don’t know how to cope any other way do pot.” She said finishing up as I froze. She was talking about our dad who had passed away last year. It hadn’t been a sudden thing; he had a heart murmur, which basically meant that he could potentially die at any time. He had been on medication and had surgeries but to no avail. It didn’t seem to help, so when he had died last year, it hadn’t been something that we weren’t expecting, had it been sad, yes. Had it been everything like when you did lose someone you loved? Yes.
“I’m not doing it because I don’t know how to cope with Dad’s death.” I half growled as I toyed with the lighter in one hand, debating if I wanted to take another hoot or let the pot go to waste.
“I never said you wer-“ My sister said as I cut her off, my voice filled with venom.
“I’m not doing it for anything like that, I have coped with dad’s death, I’ve done all that stuff. Did you ever think that I was doing it for a different reason then what your fucking teachers say?” I asked, half wondering myself where I was going with all that.
“No.” She said in a small tone, like she was about to cry because I had brought up Dad. I was over it, not completely over it but over it enough that I could talk about him without bursting into tears, unlike Jennie.
“Why do people smoke cigarettes?”
“Because they’re addicted to them?”
“No try again,” I said, sure that could be the partial reason, but that wasn’t the reason that I was looking for to prove my point.
“Because they like the way that they taste?” Jennie tried again sounding a little bit more hopeful.
“No. Wrong again.” I said, starting to get fed up with her, I thought I knew what a good way to prove my point was, but it had to come from her and not from me because then she couldn’t argue it.
“I don’t know, because people do it so they’re not stressed?” Jennie said sounded extremely flustered as I gave her a half-assed smile.
“Exactly, I bet you didn’t think about it that way.” I told her as I put the bong up to my lips again before moving it away. Maybe not now, after this so called conversation was finished I would, but not now.
“No I didn’t.” She said as I shot her another smirk before placing the bong up to my lips and lighting it, taking in another breath. Now as far as I was concerned this conversation was over.