Chapter 1: Starting off.

Tuesday, September 5th

Today I looked out my window and saw the back of a 7-11, and two guys smoking. I looked even further and realized that they were smoking pot. How I knew that, I have no clue. So, with my mom out partying, I went up to them. "Hey," one of them said to me. "Uh, hi," I was kind of nervous, they had huge holes in their jeans and one had a Slipknot tee. "What's your name, gorgeous?" the guy was wearing this really tight black long sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts. "Uh, its Gabriella," I stuttered, pushing my long black hair out of my face. "Well, hey honey, I'm Chad," he said pointing to him self, "and this is Jordan, have you ever had pot before?" "Uh no never," I wasn't sure if I should or not. "Well come here, you must try some, its simply fab!" he said, making me laugh.

When I was a baby my dad had left my mom, he always said I was a mistake. Sometimes I believed him. In 3rd grade my mom started going to clubs every night. She would call me into her room and say, "Darling, I want to impress people, what should I wear?" and together we would pick outstanding outfits. She would come home late and be drunk; I would have to hold her hair back when she threw up. Then we would both go to sleep and the process would repeat, until one day I in fifth grade I grew tired of it. I stopped helping her and just watched. Like she was on Discovery Channel and I was just a mere viewer.
"Hey, girlie," Chad said, "you're like a natural at this." I was smoking, and it felt good. Friday, September 8th

Walking home from the store today I saw about 50 tourists who were wearing "I Heart NY" Gosh, those tee shirts are so stupid, who needs them? My mom confronted me today, "Honey, you smell like pot, what did you do last night?" "Oh, don't worry my friends were doing it but I didn't do any of it," I replied, smiling a stupidly sweet smile. "Alright, dear," she said, turning back to her beer. Hah! I'm getting away with it! Hold on, the phones ringing and Mom just passed out.
It was Chad he said he was getting some more people and we were going to sneak into a club. This will be a fun night.
I told Mom that I was going to a friend's birthday party and I need something to wear. She's running around freaking out about what will be perfect for me. "Blue?" she's asking no one in particular, "No, maybe… aha! I've got it!" She's pulling out a long pale pink flirty dress. "This will be perfect!" she exclaims. "Thanks, Mom, as I go to try it on I see it says To My Elizabeth (my mom) you are the one. Hmm, what could that mean? Was it from Dad? Wow, I hardly ever write that name. Oh, well I shouldn¹t think
about it. I've never met my father. I had talked to him on the phone, but,
it just doesn't seem like him.
Yes! The dress fits perfectly and Chad is here. Mom thinks he¹s
my boyfriend. Ah, she can be so annoying, and so dumb! Chad is so obviously
"Hey Babe!" Chad said, giving me a hug, Mom smiled, "are you
ready to go?" "Are you kidding?" I whispered to him, out loud, I said, "Oh,
alright, bye mom!" "Bye, Hun," she said. As we were leaving Chad was
laughing. "What?" I asked, somewhat frustrated. "She doesn't know does she? She doesn't know that I'm gay!" with that, he started laughing harder.
"N-n-oo!" I said, laughing, too.


Whoa, that party was awesome! It's midnight, and my mom is asleep, thank goodness, because I'm stoned! I had like 3 lines of pot! It feels so good to be high, my problems just seem to melt away. How cool is that? Weird, suddenly I remember my mom telling me never to do drugs, oh well! Chad picked me up and we met up with Jordan and his girlfriend, Sara. Then, with our new, fake ID's we snuck into The Cats Meow. It was so fun! They just gave us beer. Beer is awesome too. I'm still in awe, because of it, or maybe I'm drunk. Ha ha. Chad didn't drink or do drugs so he drove us home. I want to live.

Saturday, September 9th

Oh, man, major headache, doing drugs is like my thing. Plus, the friends I do it with aren't bad people we just do bad things, ha ha. Chad does sometimes though. We have to convince him that its alright. Oh man, it hurts too much to write. I wish I could just dizzolve.