First Time Story

I used to smoke a lot. I remember the first time I smoked. It was a bad experience. I went with a group of friends to this weird abandoned park. I had never been there, but I followed them there in my car because I had to go home after. I know—stupid idea to smoke for the first time then go home.

They didn’t have any wraps but they had their Zong—for those of you that don’t know what that is, it’s a zig zag bong. It hits hard as hell. I tried it though. I took one hit and it killed me instantly. It hit so hard. I started coughing and hacking everywhere. My friend offered me some water because he was afraid I would throw up.

It was time for me to go and I started to get into my car and I realized I had no idea how to turn my car around. So I had someone else do it that was there. I started down the gravel road and at some point I started to freak out. I panicked and I tried to call my friend that was out there with me smoking but I messed up and called a different friend and I asked them for help. He left his house and came to save me. I remember being so fucked up that I tried to give him my coordinates. I then told him I was coming near a church and that I was going to park there. He told me he knew where I was and that he was on his way, but I messed up and ended up pulling into a driveway next to the church. I messed up big time.

Suddenly, a car came up behind me and I had to drive down the rest of the driveway and luckily my friend had just arrived and pulled in. He explained to them that I was messed up and that he was helping me get home. My friend owns a Jeep and I remember telling him to close the window because I was cold. He took me to the Arby’s parking lot where we met my other two friends and they were laughing their asses off at me. I started to twitch and shit. I always do that when I am high; it’s ridiculous.

I couldn’t go home that messed up. I just couldn’t. Now that I look back at it I should have just gone home. I was looking for a place to stay and I couldn’t find one at first. Suddenly, I called one of my friends and she said I could stay there. So my Jeep friend took me to my friend's house that was in town. When I showed up, I remember crawling out of the car and waving at this guy that goes to my school and I created my nickname for him. “Hey, Hobby Bobby.” I was a mess. I had barely ever talked to the guy and I gave him a nickname. So stupid!

My friend met me outside; she took one look at me and said, “What did you do Randi?” laughing. It was funny honestly now that I think of it, but at the time it was not. She told me to walk in the house and try to act normal. I don’t even remember walking in the house honestly. I just remember my mom freaking out and calling me asking where I was. I told her I had to stay at a friend's house because she was freaking out. I stayed even though mom wanted me home. I made her really mad. She was so disappointed. The next morning I begged my friend to take me to my car after school. I was still messed up in the morning. I freaked out bad that night. I told one of my close guy friends that was like a older brother to me and he was disappointed. I started to regret it a lot. It sucked having to go home and face my mom and dad and I had to stay home for a week and wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. It was just a big mess. I should have just went home. This was not my last time smoking, but it took me awhile to build up the courage to do it again.