"Smoking Kills."

"Smoking Kills." 1 Think I am

Month Four

"Smoking kills."

"So do people."

"Touché," I said, looking up at the tall, muscular man in front of me.

"Babe, are you going to keep drooling at me or are you going to go get your 'girly things,'" Zaire said, smirking at me with a raised eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes at him, but walked inside the store nevertheless. I went through the aisles until I found the aisle with pads and tampons. I sighed as a sharp pain stabbed at my abdomen and grabbed a pack before moving on to the painkillers.

I paid for them, along with hot pockets, five chocolate bars, chocolate milk, and a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough. I walked outside and found the tall man in the same spot with the same cigarette between his fingers.

"Let's go."

"Whatever."

We walked back to my house and while I walked inside, Zaire said he was going to go hang out with his boys while I "dealt with my issues alone."

Which meant he wanted to get high while I sat at home, alone, with my mood swings.

I did just that, although I added a bit of crying and a Disney movie. He did this every month, so I knew I wouldn't see him for a week.

He never cared to know that my periods only lasted four days.

I wanted to call my friend and have her come over and comfort me, but she just so happened to be Zaire. Thinking about that fact made me cry even harder, because I did have a she, but she killed herself three years ago.

My parents didn't fight, but I didn't see them anymore. After an incident a few years ago.

I'm an eighteen year old girl in her freshman year of college with normal eighteen year old problems.

At least I think I am.