“Mom, do you promise our family is strong enough to get through anything?” I ask her, a look of fear and desperation painted across my face.
“Alix, what is going on?” My mom says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the kitchen so our words don’t wake my dad.
“I smoked a little bit of pot this weekend, Mom. Just the tiniest bit, but it was a dab, which is the wax on the cannabis plant so it’s more concentrated,” I explain, probably unnecessarily.
“Alix, you have to give your brain a chance to heal. You can’t be doing that. Every time you do, you set yourself back again.” My mom says.
I know it’s true.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
No comments:
Post a Comment