Listen up, my dear readers. Although it was not even close to lunchtime, I found myself in the girl's bathroom, seeking refuge. But don't let my current location fool you. I was not here to use the facilities. Oh no. I have claimed a vacant cubicle to indulge in a personal moment. Yes, I confess! I was sitting on the toilet seat, puffing away on a weed.
I was well aware that smoking was not permitted in this area. However, I highly doubt that anyone would be able to detect the smell of smoke from outside the bathroom. Besides, I was not going to survive these classes without a slight boost. If anyone were to question why I have been here for an extended period, I would simply mention that I was dealing with a stomach-ache. Furthermore, after the chaos that ensued this morning, my mind was completely fried.
Speaking of this morning... Mr. Cross was unlike any teacher I had encountered in this dumb school. I wondered if he truly knew what he was doing, or if he was just winging it. The more I tried to analyse his behaviour, the more confused I became. And then it hit me. I could not even contemplate his behaviour without experiencing a strange sensation in my gut. Well, one thing was for sure. There was no denying that this unorthodox teacher would require some adjustment on my part.
I inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled.
I know my fellow students like to label me as just another addict because I smoke. But let me set the record straight for my readers — that was not the case. I only started smoking after I was hospitalised, and it became a way for me to cope. I was not saying it was a healthy coping mechanism, but it was what worked for me. And to be honest, I could quit if I wanted, but I just did not want to. Maybe one day I will, but for now, I shall keep puffing away.
Another fact, I loved the rush of smoking. The sensation and carefree high it brought. The simple act of lighting my weed and taking a drag was all I needed to let go and relax. Furthermore, for me, smoking weed was like the fucking Holy Grail of turn-ons. Like seriously! It typically makes me want sex. And so, vibrator became my best friend. Could we just take a moment to appreciate the genius who came up with the idea for vibrators? I mean, could you even imagine what life was like before it? To rely solely on your own hands for pleasure? No, thanks.
While we are at it, let me just say. Weed was not the only drug I have experimented with. I know some people did not consider marijuana a "real drug", but for me, it definitely had some mind-altering effects. Anyway, when I was around fifteen, I tried ecstasy. I did not even know what it was at the time. I just saw a pill bottle on my mother’s boyfriend's dresser and thought it might help with my headache. So, I popped one without a second thought.
Laying on that bed, I was so chill and relaxed that I forgot about popping those pills earlier. But then, after like half an hour, I started feeling strange in my body. And I was not talking about some normal high or buzz. This was like next-level weirdness.
Later that day, my mother’s boyfriend came home and noticed that one of his pills was missing. He went nuts on my mom. He even asked his sons if they had taken it, but they denied it. Then, he came to my room, but I was not about to get involved in this drama. Even if it was my making. I pretended to be asleep, trying to avoid any confrontation with this guy. I was low-key scared that he was going to grab me by my legs and drag me out of bed, but Chump surprisingly did not. He just stormed out of my room, probably still heated about the missing pill.
That night, Chump beat up my mother.
I could hear her screams from my bedroom. I ran downstairs and saw him just wailing at her, throwing punches left and right.
My wonderful readers, I was not going to lie to you all. I was scared shitless, but I could not just stand there and watch. I jumped in and tried to pull him off, but he was a big guy and just pushed me away like it was nothing.
Oh, man. That crazy bastard! He totally deserved to be where he was. Locked up.
When I was done smoking, the first thing I did was rummage through my bag for some peppermint gum. Had to get rid of that smoke smell. After I pop that minty goodness into my mouth, I am ready to leave school for the day. Maybe I will visit the mall and do some window shopping.
I plugged in my earphones and started jamming to my favourite tunes as I strutted down the hallway. Nothing like a good beat to elevate my mood after a smoke break.
When I hear a killer tune, everything just blends, you know? Like the beat. The lyrics. The melody. It all just becomes this perfect, groovy mix.
I was walking down the hall feeling so freaking high. Music cranked up. Totally in my world. I was not even paying attention. Just scrolling through my phone like a zombie. The next thing I know, I crashed right into someone.
I dropped to the ground.
"Ouch!" I exclaimed with surprise. Taking a deep breath, I sternly replied, "Why don't you pay attention to where you are walking?"
"Am I supposed to take the blame for our collision even though you weren't paying attention?" The tone of voice conveyed confusion and disbelief.
This was not happening!
Mr. Cross! There was no doubt about it. I could not mistake the strong and deep tone of his voice.
After a prolonged period of lying still. Desperately hoping that the man would simply leave, I gradually rose to my feet because it became apparent that Mr. Cross had no intention of doing so.
The day just keeps on surprising me!
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