I recieve a phone call.

As I'm considering heading to a bar or a friend's house, I hear the ring tone of my cell phone. It's coming from back in the secret hiding spot, so I'm not able to reach it in time and I miss the call. When I check to see who it was from, it says: "Home." Which is in the phonebook in reference to before I moved out of my parents' home. That was before the 'rents divorced.

Now it is just my mom Mary, who works two jobs and on days off gets stoned to cool off her stress, my petite 18-year-old stoner little sister, and Grandma, who smokes medical marijuana for her arthritis.