I'm sixteen or seventeen years old working along side my uncle and another coworker, who's names I will not disclose, cleaning horse stables.
The ranch I was in is about 50 acres in a rectangle shape extending longways from the main street going back. White fence on the whole side of road. The driveway was right through the middle. About quarter way in is a large warehouse mainly used for parties and storage that was located just to right side.
Ahead is a small house built for those that worked there. Beyond that after about 200 meters is a chicken coop that really needed some grooming inside. Vines and tall grass covered the inside of the chicken coop's "indoor rec area". And being how it was all sorrounded by a 4 foot metal mesh, in my attempts to peak in, there was hardly any room to get in. The coop itself, built of entirely out of wood (Ok not entirely, metal nails were involved and staples) and devided into two sections. One for the hens being the forefront from the entrance, and one for the rooster and the bride.
Inside this wooden jail house was tall enough to for my 180cm chubby self to fit in and walk around comfortable. I could extend my hands and not touch the walls unless I took two steps in either direction.
Outside this coop, still facing forward (back towards the road), just to the left was a small lake. Yes there was fishes. Small game fish nothing too big. Beats me what they were called so don't ask. (I wouldn't eat fish from a lake. Rivers are where its at.)
If we come back to that small house meant for the slave worker if we turn then to the left, we will find the masters house. They being husband and wife past the age 60.
I dont have much to say about these characters. I hope they are doing well and are living their lives peacefuly. Their history I know not of. They were nice to me and they were firm with their desicions. Working for them I have learned many a craft. Albeit I mastered not many for lack of time on the feild, my soul went towards a path of getting to do something new everytime. I understood the importance of work, but I also understood the portion that just wants to live life my way. (Lol, the young fool thinks he can live life his way.)
Back in front of the wage slaves house (then again no one really forced them to be there) the drive in still extends forward. And then turns right. Here then lies a two story garage with a house built inside also one floor"s" tall. Beyond that the primary stable holding entrance. At this entrance you will find me at the aproximent age before mentioned. Working with things a stable boy must work with. (Take your pick. I cant remember what I was doing last. Anyways...)
As you see, this here boy is interested in the thing the other gentleman wss puffing at. A joint. Cannabis. Aka the cia term for cannabis, Marijuana. Motita wey.
Like the one im chocking on now as I write this out.
Brain washer removal machine. I promise it works.
Set switch to center. once inserted the pedo elitist in. Make sure the door is closed and locked. Walk away.
Anyways...
Your standing there watching this man and this teenager talking about weed. Then finally he offers the younglin. The younglin takes it and huffs and puffs. But the damn thing's ember fell off without notice and "your uncles coming.... your uncle. .. hey your uncle is coming".
"Shit...
"Hes going to narc to my parents." The young hobbit said in his head.
I was caught throwing the joint behind me where the horses get their shower. The look I recieved from my uncle, his nod of disaproval, and his confirmation "Im going to tell your parents" were all signs of "this is going to go bad".
We get done with work. Were heading home. The whole time after that event has been very silent. Nothing was said about it till I arrived home.
Arriving home, living with my uncle and his family as well temporaraly, I went straight to my room and just laid down to sleep. To await my parents arrival. They arrived sooner than expected. I heard my uncle tell them, "your son was smoking marijuana".
What a fuss. It was the talk of the century that day. I hath commiteth a very "sinful" thing.
Oh did the waterworks from my mother nearly filled the room. I about drowned to death unable to breathe because of the hightides flowing in. I was amazed at the over dramatic expression from her and her evil husband.
Ironicaly no ass wooping. You see, the ass wooping stopped after I had intented suicide at age 14. But still. I still couldnt help but to feel tjat I would recieve such a punishment. I was so used to it by then anyways.
For as long as I remember I had lived around others smoking pot. Always avoided it because, "it was bad and only those that use it are bad" or "it is harmful" etc etc etc. It was something that kept being repeated to me and drilled into me but, since I had a natural distaste for liars, I always pushed aside those statements.
I wanted to try it out for myself and see for myself. I wanted to experience what was so bad about it.
My punishment was.... what? What could they do? I didnt have phones or any gaming system. I didnt have friends, moving to a new location so many times assured that. No.. i was just left alone. I was given a redicilous lecture but it was just the same jargon that was spoonfed to me except this time with emotion. The emotion I couldnt help but to laugh at. I did so internally though.
Albeit my parents were incorrect to lie to me about cannabis, they did so because they BELIEVED that was the truth of it. And they "loved" me and wanted "what was best for me".
Yea.
Today I smoke pot on the daily basis.
Thabks for reading everyone
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