In the first chapter, our character, Chloe, is just introducing herself. |
Whoever said sixteen was sweet, obviously didn’t know me at sixteen. At sixteen, everyone on Cape Cod was all junkies. By my sixteenth birthday, I had done ecstasy, cocaine, and had probably smoked a million dollars worth of marijuana. I did horribly in school, for whatever part I was there; I would skip school everyday to get high. At sixteen, I was a greasy, overweight hippie who dropped out of school. Also at sixteen, my parents made me move out of state. I had to sober up and quit smoking in order to survive life with my parents. I didn’t know where or how to get drugs or cigarettes in my new town so I just gave it all up. I know that all sounds too easy. It really wasn’t. I had only done E once and coke once but I smoked weed everyday. Without my best friend, Mary Jane, I was absolutely nothing. I had to face reality and, worst of all, beat the shit out of all my demons. Demon fighting is harder than on Buffy. (Trust me; I’ve watched it many times when I was high). These demons are from the unconscious and sometimes you have no idea the thoughts that breed in there. As I sit here at my computer, smoking a cigarette and drinking my black coffee, I think of how much I missed as a child, what I should have done, and how mean I was to my parents. I truly am not ashamed. I have had a very hard personality. I am very hard to love, but my mom has stuck by me throughout everything. I am a loud mouthed bitch who really doesn’t give a shit what people think, and I tell the truth whether it hurts or not. I am not one to lie… except to my parents. However, I had a handful of great friends who loved me through and through. (I left them all on Cape Cod). I was never one to drink, my family drank enough to keep the alcohol business in tact forever, but I was definitely a smoker. I chain smoked Marlboro Reds and smoked joint after joint after blunt after bowl after bong hit after bong hit. I was addicted to coffee, cigarettes, and Marijuana. I know the doctors say that you can’t physically get addicted (as you do with cigarettes) but I got mentally addicted. I only hung out with junkies and I left my real friends (or turned them into hippies too). At sixteen, I was a horrible, unpleasant person. I overate, I was a chain smoker, and I was a bitter, mean person. I felt no connection whatsoever to God. I was an open atheist. |