Your life is spiraling downward like a yo-yo playing freely, untamed. You can take the time to bring yourself back up from the bottom and find the top again but you must put in the effort. With the flick of a wrist you can find the way but not until you hit the ground and tumble away. Life isn’t as simple as it seems. As you grow up you become part of a click, a group of people that will form your life forever; if you allow it. Your parents try to influence your life but in the end, you are left with your peers in your school, at parties and all around you. You can take the narrow path leading to eternal life, or you can take the large path, providing for you a simple way out.

You will face problems so numerous that you will want to break, find an easy escape and run as fast as you can into the dark. Peers will stick their hands and feet into your issues and pull you down lower. A minor problem can turn into a life time mistake. You will be influenced by sex, drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes. The possibilities are endless, and the cycle never ends, you can say no one day and then the next you will be sad and decide maybe it could help, so you say yes. You start off by doing it once, then twice, becoming once a week, and then starting to be once a day. All of a sudden you become an addict, an all day everyday occurrence.

You start in just testing the grounds. You’re trying out for the team, one that will accept anyone. You hit the ball and it flies across the stadium, and the crowd roars into laughter. Everyone is messed up on something or another, and they just want you to join. You are just another person to pitch in on the booze, and drugs, since everyone is low on money from the past months. You are the newbie of the group and you will be nurtured into growth of a new life, just as if you were to be going in the right direction. You gain the new friends and ditch out on the old. You no longer want the positive because hanging around good makes you look bad, and no one will accept that. You don’t want to be around anyone that tells you what you are doing is wrong, you just wont let it fly. You create older friends, twenty one year olds, but you are only fifteen. You need to get the alcohol somehow, so you gain hook-ups. You also follow them along to college parties, and start to lie about your age. You are fifteen going on nineteen, but you look only a few years older. Cigarettes are added next, to make you look a tad-bit older and that’s fine with you. You will do anything to add on the years to your appearance, to make you fit in to the group. You have an older sister that will help you; her friends are your friends and so on. Things have gotten crazy already. You are still only fifteen.

Months skip and jump and bumpily zoom on and your life seems to be ticking away drastically. You are cornered, your face to the wall, addiction has a gun to your head, its telling you to do or die. You will do it because addiction has your mind controlled; it holds on to the memories and makes sure you don’t forget the feeling. You are no longer in control of your own life, you have found a false sense of happiness and you can’t let it go. The humanly chemicals mix with the deadly and it becomes a must have, something you do to survive to get through the day, every day. Just one hit, one shot, one cigarette. You will no longer care about the things that once made you happy.

Your young life has been changed forever; you begin at the age of twelve, smoking pot, just to pass the time. You know that what you are doing is wrong but the ones you look up to are doing it; so why not give it a try? You are known as a bad influence, and you are only in the seventh grade. Everyone’s parents know about you, and none of them approve of your friendship with their children. People your age are being influenced by you and you by your older friends. So you hide what you are doing from everyone, you don’t want them to know. One day they come to you because they want to try it, it looks fun, “everybody’s doing it.” You get all your friends into smoking, and finally it becomes a normal thing. You don’t care at all anymore, but why should you?


Your life is spiraling downward, like a rollercoaster ride. You can choose which one you ride and how things will turn out in the end. You are blazed everyday, high as a kite. You couldn’t care less about school or the grades that reflect your knowledge, and participation on what is going on. You can fake it through middle school and still move up a grade level but once you are in high school things change, and you aren’t ready for it. Your freshmen year of high school, and you’re never there. You have friends already that are upper-class and they have cars, and off blocks and no care in the world. You like the way they think and go along with what they are doing. You just want to smoke and drink and not worry about worldly things, just like them. You realize what you are doing is getting you no where, but by now you can’t do anything about it. You don’t want to; it’s your way of life. By the end of your freshmen year you have two credits, you could have had enough but you get mad and tell off the vice principle because you don’t like the way he treats you. Only two weeks left of school and your kicked out and sent to an alternative school. All of this happened because you had to open you big snotty mouth to authority.


The summer following your crazy first year of high school starts with alcohol and drugs galore. A half gallon of Barbarossa a day and a dub to your dome suits you well. A couple weeks into summer vacation, at six in the morning you ask your drunken friend to take you and your friend home because you have grown tired. It’s your parent’s eighteenth year anniversary and you have them start it off with a call from the police. Your driver took a close turn and flashing lights cause you to pull over to the side of the road. After the driver is tested and given a DUII, you are next in line for the pen test, and a breathalyzer. The police officer tells you that you reek of liquor and forces upon you a breathalyzer. You give in and tell him you only had one beer. Your parents pick you up and you think you learned your lesson. Things go on as if nothing happened and you are still doing the same drugs and alcohol ordeal.

By August another tragic thing occurs. Your loving, amazing grandmother passes away and you force yourself to attend a house party because your friend’s dad is out of town and the house is open. Everyone is partying on the back porch and yet again you have a half gallon of Barbarossa for yourself. You are so wasted, you come to the point where you blackout. Every thing seems fine until you hear, “COPS!” and everyone starts booking it as fast as their feet can take them. Polices come from both sides of the house, and people are jumping off the deck and running down the hill. You try to speed off the deck and end up running into a bush and being spotted by the cops. You are screwed. You are told to go back onto the deck and have a seat until it’s your turn to be tested. They ask your name and you can’t even spell it, you are stumbling and they don’t have the need to waste their time on giving you a breathalyzer this time, you are obviously gone. You are stuck with a second (M.I.P) Minor In Possession, in the same summer.