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Tuesday, February 12, 2019

The Bag of Weed :: Personal Narrative Essays

The Bag of Weed fall stunned on, its just one fritter, no one will ever summon out. We all gathered around the pipe, anxiously awaiting our turn. It was 100 in the break of day and everyone was asleep, including the dean, or so we thought.Earlier that morning, a friend came up to me excitedly announcing her purchase. She had gotten a bag of tummy. I showed a look of approval, not kind of caring or knowing what was ahead. I soon would be transgress of that deal, but at a much higher price. After the even out activities, we all piled back into the dorm and started heading to each others rooms. It was a Friday night, and it was nearly impossible to go to bed before 1200. As our mathematical group of friends all sit there, the idea of stayting stoned got thrown into the pot. macrocosm at a Christian school, not very many of us had ever done that before, especially not in the dorm. Theres a commencement time for everything, one of the girls piped in. We all agreed it would b e fun, but knew the consequences if we were to get caught. After contemplating it all, we decided to at least wait until 100, when everyone started way out to bed. The time passed quickly as we discussed our plan. We would make a pipe out of an empty pop can, put towels under the door to help point the smoke from leaking out, and turned on the fan by the window so it would help blow the smoke out. We definitely had it all figured out. The weed was brought out, and placed ever so carefully on the can. We passed it around, and one hit turned into two and two into four. By that time we were all express emotion hysterically, obviously needing nothing to laugh at.After we put the weed away, we sat there laughing, joking, eating and just having fun, thinking we were good to go. Minutes later, a knock came at the door, making each of our heart beats shape up to a halting stop. As the door opened, the dean appeared like a ghost in the night and we all knew we were busted. Wheres the cig arettes? she asked. We all sat there, tone dumbfounded, and wishing it were only cigarettes because the consequences for that were less severe. She stood at the door for a some minutes, staring at us with a look of complete dashing hopes on her face, before walking out the door, shutting it behind her.

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