Man fuck this 'Turning Eighteen.' Shit, fuck the group home too because he's forced to leave on the day of. And fuck..he needs a blunt to smoke or he'd loose his mind but grace 'Confiscated' it. Damn. But that's an easy fix. All he needed to do was climb out the window and bounce, and that's exactly what he did.

He was walking down the streets, hands in his pockets. Looking left and right, searching for a plug to just buy a blunt and some weed from and go back to the group home. Ain't nobody on the streets selling, but he was still searching. Needing something to keep the thoughts at bay. He was going to give up, but he saw someone sitting on the curb of the empty street smoking a blunt. Approaching them, he looked around before clearing his throat and speaking.

"Yo, you selling?" Marcus hesitated, his jaw flexing and relaxing, then flexing again before relaxing once more. Why was he so damn scared? All he was doing was buy the weed, go back to the group home, and roll up, but fuck, he and this person were the only people on the street so anything could happen to him.