Growing up as a child wasn't really the best for me. I had both my mom and my dad. They were always there for me. I always had a place to go, where someone knows my name. We'd do everything together, we rode our bikes around together, we ate together, and we'd laugh and cry all day long. I had everything I ever wanted, a family. Everything started to go great. But sadly, I figured that nothing lasts forever. Everything was starting to fall when I was in the 8th grade.
As the school day was finished, I went home by myself expecting my parents watching a movie or having a date. When I opened the door, I see them fighting. I asked myself "what the fuck is happening". I went straight to my room and wore my headphones to keep their fighting out of my mind. I wanted to sleep but I just can't stop thiqnking of the fact my parents are fighting. The next day came and as I woke up, I couldn't find my mom and dad. I was the only one left in this house. There was no food on the table so I had to go to school starving as fuck. After school I went back home all by myself again. As I opened the door, they were fighting all over again. I was starting to get irritated from all of the fighting.
Day after day, night after night. The fights between my mom go on and on with a different topic once every one to two days. When I was sick and tired of all the fighting, I decided to let myself loose for once. Marijuana, a drug that I found on my dad's closet that also helped me cope with my childhood. Once I smoked the weed I felt like nothing recently happened. After a few minutes my high started kicking in. It felt like the blood in my veins were just drained. I checked the mirror to see any differences with my appearance. As I looked in the mirror, I get to see the face of failure, the face of failure and the face of desperation. My eyes are starting to go from a pale white to a pinkish red. Thanks to marijuana, I get to escape all of my troubles. The only problem was I needed more, I eventually needed a dealer for my weed. I was being told by my other peers that there is a dealer who does his business under the bridge. It was the first time to meet my dealer, I felt so nervous I can feel the blood pumping in my heart. I had my money in my pocket at all times. I asked myself, what if this is a scheme?, what if this affects my status quo, is this fucking illegal?, will I go to jail? For the first time in my life, I was haunted by anxiety.
After school, I went and waited under the bridge for my dealer. I waited, and waited, and waited. It was already 5:50 pm, I am supposed to be at home by now. Until, I heard footsteps. All of the anxiety was starting to kick in again. I finally get a glance at my dealer. It turns out that my dealer and I were just the same age. He was with his gang of five. One was bringing a pack of beer, the other one was smoking a pack, the other one was holding a briefcase and the last one was holding a switch blade like a fucking crazy person. The dealer asked "what the fuck do you want?". I said that I was here to pickup my weed. He grabbed the briefcase from the other guy vigorously and told me that the payment was $27, luckily I brought $50. I gave him the money and he gave me my weed and I rushed straight back home. This routine happened three times a week for the last two months. Eventually he asked if I wanted to be a part of his crew. Members of his crew don't need to pay for the weed. And what kind of a fucking idiot would I be to turn down free fucking weed. So eventually I joined his crew. We were just hanging out under the bridge smoking weed and drinking beer until we considered ourselves fucked up. There was one time where we went to this house of a fat girl. My crew called her fucking fat and retarded but I only considered her fat and illiterate. We would just distract the fat fuck while one or two of us steals a fucking pack of beer downstairs at her house. We did this routine for about seven to eight months. One day when I was smoking my daily pack of weed at my room, my mom noticed everything. She eventually wanted me to stop but I didn't want to give up weed considering that I'm now an addict.
I eventually left the house and moved to my aunts house. One day I went to the fat retarded girls house by myself. She opened the door, welcomed me in and offered me twinkies. I asked her what's fuck. She explained to me what fuck was and I asked her if she has done it before. She responded "Yeah a lot of times. Mostly with my cousin". She walked me upstairs and brought me to a room. She started undressing and taking off her clothes. I immediately left the house with disgust due to the smell of her fucking pussy. Once I went back to school, I heard rumours about me that I fucked the retarded girl. The guys in my school eventuay called me retard fucker. I was kicked out of my crew because of them thinking that I brought shame to their crew. I eventually stopped going to school due to this fucking incident. My aunt moved away and told me that I can keep the house.
Years already passed with me living on my own. My aunt left a guitar at her house for me to entertain myself. I was starting to fiddle with the guitar but then a sudden interest came into my mind. I started to practice, master and learn the guitar. I was feeling like after the drugs, the hardship and the loneliness, my life was just about to begin.
