jfxphoto
Active member
First off. All credit for this story must be given to Tighe25 on grasscity he wrote all of these and is in the process of finishing this. I will be sure to post more when he updates.
The original thread is http://forum.grasscity.com/real-life-stories/839340-marijuana-short-story.html
I found this to be very entertaining. Reminded me of the story about the Heroin dealer. If you have the time sit back and read a few chapters I don't think you will be disappointed.
Chapter 1
He stopped sleeping with his gun at night. Maybe it was just laziness, maybe it was a false sense of security that had slowly crept over him the past few months. Or maybe he was just afraid he might actually have to use it again.
Jason Steele was not a man who was easily intimidated. Back in high school, only a few years earlier, he was known as the kid who never backed down. Not from a fight, not from a dare. He was always that guy, the one who earned everyone’s respect, even if the person didn’t necessarily like him. He always had his pick of the girls in the school, sometimes it got so overwhelming that he had to resort to purposely ‘losing’ his phones to avoid them harassing him through text every day. Highschool, the ‘glory days’. Jason realized now that Highschool was nothing but a false image. Everyone acted so happy, but deep down he knew that most of the kids were damaged inside and tried to cover it up with their respective social groups. Highschool was supposed to teach you life lessons and put you on the path to becoming successful.
But as he sat there, listening carefully to the noises coming from the first floor of his home, he thought to himself, “Highschool could never have prepared me for THIS.”
Jason Steele was a drug dealer. Simple as that. He spent the previous few years of his life buying marijuana, and selling it for a profit. It wasn’t a very complicated concept, but oh boy did it make him money. A lot of money. Here and there he would invest in some other products, Ecstasy, LSD, sometimes prescription medicine such as OxyContin or Vicodin, but he always ended up going back to mary jane. Marijuana was his rock from which he built his life.
He first tried ‘weed’ in middle school. Him and a few friends down at the beach shared a joint, probably less than a gram of schwag, between the five of them. Jason thought it was gross. He said to himself he wasn’t going to do THAT ever again. Who would have thought the boy who at first disliked marijuana would become one of the most successful dealers in his area. But by Highschool, he was ready to try it again. The summer before his freshman year, a few friends said they were going to smoke. The ‘Cool’ crowd. They had been asking Jason to come with them for some time, but he had always been hesitant. Finally he gave in. He was at a small party with friends, and already had a few beers in him, so he decided what was the worst that can happen, he’ll end up not enjoying it again and then decide to not try it any more? He walked with his friends to the woods and lit up. Man, was this different than the stuff he had tried his first time.
A quick, sharp noise from downstairs snapped Jason out of his daydream. He had a tendency to zone out at the wrong times, and running his hand over the small scar in his side reminded him of this.
“Fuck, where did I leave my piece?”, whispered Jason to himself as he crept towards the closet. He had a small weapons safe in his closet, but he was nervous it would make too much noise if he tried to get his MAC-10 out of the crude metal box. He had a small 9mm pistol also, but he could not for the love of God remember where he had stashed it. Finally, he remembered. Top drawer.
Jason silently stepped over to his desk and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a small hand cloth, under which his gun was located. Jason was never a fan of guns, or weapons of any kind for that matter, almost always choosing to fight with fists before anything else. However, this was no time to be ‘noble’. His life was in danger, and almost just as important to him as his life, so was his bud. He removed the handgun, and grabbed the clip which was located just next to it. He did not insert the clip in yet, afraid the click would alert whoever was downstairs. Instead, he headed over to his bed, and smothered the gun with his pillow and did his best to muffle the sound of him loading and cocking the pistol. It seemed to work. Now was the hard part. He had to go investigate whatever this noise was. As he glanced out his bedroom window, he did not notice any suspicious vehicles parked on his street.
Jason crept down the hallway of his second floor, looking in every room just to make sure no one else was there. Finally, he reached his stairs. They were new and carpeted, so he did not worry about making any noise. He took the first step and listened carefully.
“Maybe we should just wake him up now.”, said a voice Jason immediately recognized. “I’m thinking that’s a good idea”, said another Jason knew just as well. Jason stepped down the stairs and looked at the two men standing there in his living room.
“What the fuck are you two doing here?”, Jason asked them, secretly grateful it was not a group of burglars.
“Saving your life, once again.”, said one of the men, with a smirk.
The original thread is http://forum.grasscity.com/real-life-stories/839340-marijuana-short-story.html
I found this to be very entertaining. Reminded me of the story about the Heroin dealer. If you have the time sit back and read a few chapters I don't think you will be disappointed.
Chapter 1
He stopped sleeping with his gun at night. Maybe it was just laziness, maybe it was a false sense of security that had slowly crept over him the past few months. Or maybe he was just afraid he might actually have to use it again.
Jason Steele was not a man who was easily intimidated. Back in high school, only a few years earlier, he was known as the kid who never backed down. Not from a fight, not from a dare. He was always that guy, the one who earned everyone’s respect, even if the person didn’t necessarily like him. He always had his pick of the girls in the school, sometimes it got so overwhelming that he had to resort to purposely ‘losing’ his phones to avoid them harassing him through text every day. Highschool, the ‘glory days’. Jason realized now that Highschool was nothing but a false image. Everyone acted so happy, but deep down he knew that most of the kids were damaged inside and tried to cover it up with their respective social groups. Highschool was supposed to teach you life lessons and put you on the path to becoming successful.
But as he sat there, listening carefully to the noises coming from the first floor of his home, he thought to himself, “Highschool could never have prepared me for THIS.”
Jason Steele was a drug dealer. Simple as that. He spent the previous few years of his life buying marijuana, and selling it for a profit. It wasn’t a very complicated concept, but oh boy did it make him money. A lot of money. Here and there he would invest in some other products, Ecstasy, LSD, sometimes prescription medicine such as OxyContin or Vicodin, but he always ended up going back to mary jane. Marijuana was his rock from which he built his life.
He first tried ‘weed’ in middle school. Him and a few friends down at the beach shared a joint, probably less than a gram of schwag, between the five of them. Jason thought it was gross. He said to himself he wasn’t going to do THAT ever again. Who would have thought the boy who at first disliked marijuana would become one of the most successful dealers in his area. But by Highschool, he was ready to try it again. The summer before his freshman year, a few friends said they were going to smoke. The ‘Cool’ crowd. They had been asking Jason to come with them for some time, but he had always been hesitant. Finally he gave in. He was at a small party with friends, and already had a few beers in him, so he decided what was the worst that can happen, he’ll end up not enjoying it again and then decide to not try it any more? He walked with his friends to the woods and lit up. Man, was this different than the stuff he had tried his first time.
A quick, sharp noise from downstairs snapped Jason out of his daydream. He had a tendency to zone out at the wrong times, and running his hand over the small scar in his side reminded him of this.
“Fuck, where did I leave my piece?”, whispered Jason to himself as he crept towards the closet. He had a small weapons safe in his closet, but he was nervous it would make too much noise if he tried to get his MAC-10 out of the crude metal box. He had a small 9mm pistol also, but he could not for the love of God remember where he had stashed it. Finally, he remembered. Top drawer.
Jason silently stepped over to his desk and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a small hand cloth, under which his gun was located. Jason was never a fan of guns, or weapons of any kind for that matter, almost always choosing to fight with fists before anything else. However, this was no time to be ‘noble’. His life was in danger, and almost just as important to him as his life, so was his bud. He removed the handgun, and grabbed the clip which was located just next to it. He did not insert the clip in yet, afraid the click would alert whoever was downstairs. Instead, he headed over to his bed, and smothered the gun with his pillow and did his best to muffle the sound of him loading and cocking the pistol. It seemed to work. Now was the hard part. He had to go investigate whatever this noise was. As he glanced out his bedroom window, he did not notice any suspicious vehicles parked on his street.
Jason crept down the hallway of his second floor, looking in every room just to make sure no one else was there. Finally, he reached his stairs. They were new and carpeted, so he did not worry about making any noise. He took the first step and listened carefully.
“Maybe we should just wake him up now.”, said a voice Jason immediately recognized. “I’m thinking that’s a good idea”, said another Jason knew just as well. Jason stepped down the stairs and looked at the two men standing there in his living room.
“What the fuck are you two doing here?”, Jason asked them, secretly grateful it was not a group of burglars.
“Saving your life, once again.”, said one of the men, with a smirk.
