This is a series of short stories I want to create about a boy who dreams of being a drug lord, has a very amusing phychologist, and learns what life deals his way. He also has some awesome adventures.

Matthew is High. volume one.

“Ha!, I love this dream, I have it  a lot.” I say with a positive tone.
“what mood does this dream bring to you?” Dr. sandy asks
“It makes me wanna fly, maybe cap someone?”
“So it increases your anger?” she asks while scratching down my replies.
“No, not angry” I begin.
The scratching gets louder and louder and I focus on it as I speak.
“Again, not angry, just a feeling of absolute power, a power you get nowhere but from drugs” I continue
scatch scratch scratch scratch.
“When I’m high I feel like I can take on the whole world, they just need to all get in a single row, and have tickets to my show.”
“Yes, I see” scratchy scratch scratch
I say it like a  big shot.
“okay, take the steps out of relaxation now, the session is over.”
“Why so soon? I was having fun owning my block and all” I ask, egging her on.
“you’re too young to be a gangster kid, you’re only 15.”
“You’re not supposed to give me living advice, just the pills” I say arrogantly
“Go on kid, don’t shoot up the block” she says in a tired voice.

So that was my first hypnotherapy session, it didn’t go too bad.
I walk around the corner to see my mom there, reading a magazine.
“Club fit mom? I asked with a grin
“what about it Matthew?”
“you’re 115 pounds mom, get over yourself”
She blushes, puts it up, and we head to the car.

The walk down the hallway on the way out of anywhere, is always a killer.
You wanna reach for the half smoked pack of cigarettes in your left pocket, but people
watch and people judge, and filthy smokers are best not noticed.

I reach the door and open it, I hear the outside world and it becomes alive.
“Mr. Marlboro Red, you don’t have time to smoke that” my mother says as we walk across the parking structure
“I’ll make it quick”
I smoke on my bliss and relaxation stick for three minutes thinking of ways to make it better.
Flavor… lots of flavor.

It takes me twenty four minutes to get home from the doctors office.
I know because I count every second of it on the way home each time.
Because when I’m home, I’m high.

“Can I go to the park and chill when we get home?”
“Why always the park with you? why always the mall?”
“What do you mean?”
“we used to actually do things when I was a kid was all, all you do is “chill”
I knew she was right and that I pro bally looked silly, but the mall and the park was closest to my dealer,
so it all came away at the end of the night as nothing more than mindless shopping and swinging, they knew, they just didn’t officially know.

3
Liked it
  • J. Laine on Aug 17, 2009

    Dig it.

  • brooke on Sep 7, 2009

    I love it Matt, I love it even more knowing where you come from and what you feel. I get things now(:

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