My Best Friends

By , Abington, MA
My Friends, J and P, we'll call them, do drugs. At school, they show me the dip in there mouths and their blackened gums. They ask me if I can smell the weed that is in their pocket or backpack. Every time they do that, i die a little on the inside. It is an awful thing to watch your best friend, classmate, even enemy slowly decay because of there addictions. I pity them, and i can't save them.
Do there parents care? Maybe not. Should Their parents better monitor them? Yes. Who knows, some day, P and J might be those people on the news who died from a overdose or were killed in a gang shooting.





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