It was so uncomfortable in my house that all I wanted to do was go out. As in, where are you going? Out. What are you going to do? Nothing. Because Allah is merciful, my mother didn’t seem to care how much time I spent running around, or what I did, as long as none of it got back to her.
When I was ten or eleven I smoked a few cigarettes and boy, was my interest piqued. When I was twelve, me and my friend Jackie M. lifted a couple of non-filter, king-sized Chesterfields from his mom. Those things were strong. We went to the park and smoked them. I got such a buzz that I thought, wow, no wonder the adults smoke these things, they really make it. I’m still addicted.