If You Are Weed: A Narrative Fiction

A subculture is a group of people who share a distinctive set of cultural beliefs and behaviors that differ in some significant way from that of larger society. Marijuana smokers can be considered a subculture for many reasons. Marijuana is used by millions of people around the world, either for recreational, spiritual, or therapeutic reasons. Some call themselves the cannabis connoisseurs; people who respect cannabis and use it responsibly. Few drugs have been so politicized recently as marijuana has. It is frequently praised by one side and condemned by the other, on the basis of emotional issues rather than an objective view of research.

Each year the United States government documents drug related deaths in our country, breaking the deaths down into categories of cause. These categories include tobacco, alcohol, prescription medications, illegal drug, and of course marijuana related deaths. Every year the number of deaths coming from marijuana is equivalent to zero. So why is there even controversy over the issue of legalization? Obviously, there are still some people out there who believe the drug is a topic for concern in our nation. In recent years, there has been tremendous progress being made in the field of medicine. University hospitals around the country have been proving again and again that the drug poses no threat to human health and well being, even

"No. I don't think I have." But I had. Why did I say I hadn't?

“Honey….” He started. I could tell what he had been about to say even before started talking. He wasn’t going to let me go to the camp.

Faline rolled her eyes again. After being friends with Sophia for four years, she had gotten used to the motion. “I don’t drink…or smoke,” was added as an afterthought, “remember?”

“Nice,” I said shortly, feeling like he might combust if he heard one more thing about the frivolous homecoming

“A lighter? You didn’t say that you smoked. Is there anything anything else you lied about on on the intake form? Did you lie about your drug use?”

“Are you ready to talk?” I asked him. He grunted in his obscene manner in response to the question. Apparently, he was not in the mood for matricide today.

That was a great price for the quality of the weed. I called my dealer and asked, “Yo when can you do a ounce”. He replied “I'll let you know later”. Twenty minutes passed by and he sent me a text saying that he could do it later that night. I asked him if he could send the address and time. He sent me a address to a house in Newark NJ and wanted to do the deal at 9:00 pm. I was starting to get afraid because Newark is one of the most dangerous cities in NJ. On top of that, the deal was going to happen at 9 pm. That was two red flags at once, yet it still did not stop me. I got one of my big friends to go with me in exchange for some weed. We arrived to the old abounded house and there was nobody to be found. I texted my dealer and told him that I was outside. He told me to walk to the back yard and enter the house through the back door. As I was explaining this to my friend, I could see the fear in his eyes. He pulled out a seven inch pocket knife and said, “I brought this just in case we need to use it”. I knew a seven inch pocket knife was not going to do anything against a gun. We entered the house and I yelled, “Anyone there”? I heard someone mumble, “Yeah come upstairs”. I didn't

that was on July. My parents were afraid for me, but I didn’t care at all. Before I went to court I woke up at 6AM and went to my friends house to go pick up weed, and get an old english, and a mickey 40. I went to pick up 2 grams. 1 gram was of blue dream og, and the other gram was monster og. I got hooked up and went to the liquor to go get my blunts and some 40’s. “ Aye Blaze, break down the weed while I take out the blunts”, I said. She said, “Okay I’ll break the 2 grams down and put some kief on it after.” After breaking it down we got the blunt and put the weed on it and got some keys out to get the kief and put it on top the weed then I rolled it and gave a little lick and it was rolled. We took the lighter out and started to burn it and I got the first hit. The weed was greenish brownish, felt sticky and hard, taste like an oily herb, and smelled like a plant and everything sounds like an echo. “Cough cough”, I said. I was choking and it started to hit so I took a sip of my mickey. I didn’t have water so I was sipping. It was 6:45AM and my court appointment was at 8:00. Me and Blaze smoked the 2 blunts and drank the 40’s then she said “Break a leg, mija! Hope those pigs don’t lock you up. I’ll drink one for you and many more will be waiting when you come out.” I left and went home all faded and kinda buzzed. I was so hungry that I could eat a horse. I was on the munchies and my eyes were as red as the flag of America. Getting faded is like being in heaven. I went with my parents, and they were waiting for me on the car. I got on the car, and my mom started yelling. She said,

“I imagine. It’s not what everyone expects. But yeah. I guess you don’t want to be with me now. You don’t want to take responsibility for this. It’s my fault, my fault for not using protection,” I said.

“If the sex is so good, why would I be thinking about smoking?” I said with playful tone.

The bum tried to advance, but I put my hand up gently pushing him back. “You don’t wanna do that, pal,” I told him as I felt myself crack an almost mischievous smile. “Why don’t you go back where you came from and rub one out? You ain’t getting your dick wet tonight.”

"People might masturbate to you. Does that make you porn?" My cheeks filled up with a

At age 12 I sat in a trailer with my sister age 16 and three good friends, Maddy pulled out a bag and out of that bag she took out a febreez box which contained a bag of weed., she didnt actually smoke the weed, but she showed us how you would. tears filled my eyes, taking in reality that all that she had been taught and all she knew about drugs, that my big sister, example, stouped so low. Maddy told me I could not tell a soul. It was just about the most deteriorating, and invigorating thing I could ever imagine to promise to her. To promise her I would never tell anybody about what I had just witnessed. My friend jammed a ton of thoughts and words in to my head that I needed to promise her, and the were putting so much pressure and weight