Brothers
You don't want to touch the stuff because you know what it can do to you. You've seen Reefer Madness. You start smoking it and the next thing you know you're running people over and playing the piano like a mad man.
"No way, Todd." You tell him. "I'm not touching that crap."
He shrugs his shoulder and tokes from it. "More for me." He says, smoke curling from his mouth as he speaks.
You don't really hang around Todd very much after that. It's not that the two of you dislike one another, it's just that he's falling in with a different social ring of pot smokers while you are steering clear of that dangerous substance.
Your depression has been hitting hard as of late and you sometimes feel as though nothing can make life worth living. It's too bad you didn't try that stuff Todd offered you, it's been known to help people with depression.
But you have no regrets, a healthy body bouting constant fits of depression is better than an unclean, unhealthy body addicted to a drug; no matter how happy it's supposed to make you. After all, you have such a drive to live.
A couple of years go by and you are startled from your sleep late one night by the screams of your father down stairs. He is screaming and crying out intangible utterances that you can't make out.
He's probably drunk again, you figure. He gets like that sometimes when he's had too much to drink. You almost want to go down there and make sure he's okay, but fear that he may beat the shit out of you if you do; as he is prone to abusive tendencies when infused with alcohol.
"No way, Todd." You tell him. "I'm not touching that crap."
He shrugs his shoulder and tokes from it. "More for me." He says, smoke curling from his mouth as he speaks.
You don't really hang around Todd very much after that. It's not that the two of you dislike one another, it's just that he's falling in with a different social ring of pot smokers while you are steering clear of that dangerous substance.
Your depression has been hitting hard as of late and you sometimes feel as though nothing can make life worth living. It's too bad you didn't try that stuff Todd offered you, it's been known to help people with depression.
But you have no regrets, a healthy body bouting constant fits of depression is better than an unclean, unhealthy body addicted to a drug; no matter how happy it's supposed to make you. After all, you have such a drive to live.
A couple of years go by and you are startled from your sleep late one night by the screams of your father down stairs. He is screaming and crying out intangible utterances that you can't make out.
He's probably drunk again, you figure. He gets like that sometimes when he's had too much to drink. You almost want to go down there and make sure he's okay, but fear that he may beat the shit out of you if you do; as he is prone to abusive tendencies when infused with alcohol.