One of the Wildest Highs I’ve Ever Had Backstory—I’d been dealing with UC/IBS since 6th grade, and by 7th, there were days I’d stay home when it flared up. Everyone would head to work, and I’d have the house to myself. One of those days, I rolled up my first ever personal joint and decided to spark it in the driveway. Across the street lived Mrs. Steeling—mean as hell. Told us once she’d throw us in the oven and cook us. Real witch vibes. But I was 12, already smoking cigs, and feeling bold. I’m mid-joint when she steps out onto her porch, locks eyes with me, and just… drops. Faints. Falls down the stairs and cracks her skull. I stubbed out the joint, ran over, called 911 from inside her house, and held her hand till help came. She passed later that day. I walked back across the street, sat in that same spot, and quietly finished the joint. Moral? Sometimes life hits you harder than the weed ever could. That moment reminded me—no matter who someone is, kindness is still the right move. Even if they once threatened to cook you.
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