Air

I hated him. I hated everything. This time . . .

I was mad. I wanted to hurt him in a way he hurt me. I wanted to show him how it felt to me. To see him through his life away. I even hated the whole idea of him.

The way he became after a while.

Aggressive

Stressed

Ignorant

Arrogant

Dumb

Okay, granted that that last one was mean.

And probably untrue

It is the way I feel.

He is dumb, no. He is weak.

He lives for nothing .Emotionless, longing for he’s freedom that comes in a little tiny box.

So I burned the box. Knowing that I could not hurt him. Could not touch him. Not really

If you think about it. I could do nothing. Watch as he deteriorates into Oblivion.

But I wanted to. Not because I want to be some sort of hero or savior of a kind.

I wanted to act. To show him I cared.

And all this time he tough. I was picky or immature.

Fact: It’s against the law to smoke in a house where there is a child under the age of 18

The above is a law that came into the publics’ eye first in 2007 or 08. It made me glad. Now I could lay charges against him for the abusive action he so very much likes to do.

I could make a difference. Could take control. Could sway my opinion around and people would listen. The law was made after research had shown for every cigarette that a person smokes the person next to him smokes in reality 3 cigarettes because of all the harmful smoke. That could take your life away.

“I hope you die of lung cancer or emphysema one day”

He didn’t move, say a word at all. Just kept starring at his laptop and other guy gadgets that were neatly placed all over his table.

Do I regret saying those words?

HELL NO

Like I have mentioned before. It is the way I feel.

I have vague memories as a child where I took all the little boxes and stomped on them for fun. Smoking has never been interesting to me. I have never had a flush of interest in trying it out. My friends don’t smoke. I don’t have friend that smoke …

I might sound mean. I might sound cruel.

But this is the way I feel.

The cruelest moment in my life is when I, my mom and he went on a family trip to my grandmother. When he smoked. I would usually put a blanket over my head not to get most of that awful smell on me and in my throat, round my tongue. It disgusts me.

I do not remember the exact word that I remarked to him but I remember him saying. “Well if you’re under the blanket quite and that’s all it takes. I guess I’ll light up another one”

And he did....

Maybe that’s what sparked my intense hate and anger towards him and his fellow friend.

I wonder if he knows he is a slave. I wonder if he even cares what this is doing to us. His family. Does he know?

Has he any intention of stopping. Or even trying to? Or is that all he would forever be a weakling. Addicted to smoking. A brainless fool.

Maybe this is what makes him happy. To smoke and be away from all of the problems, the people, the family, us

Maybe he has no strong will-The he is weak and can not stop. But we ARE THERE FOR HIM!!!

And are fully willing to stand by him. To fight this disease.

And I hope that one day he would trust that I knew what was happening to him and that I was only trying to help when I shot him dead.