Half-Baked

Margaret watched the television, her brain dulled by the influx of **** and weed in her system. Her stepmother poured the remaining cereal and milk into the big bowl in front of her, the box and jug of milk now empty.

"Finish that up sweet thing, there's so little left it'd be a waste to have it in the fridge." Her stepmother said, pouring a shot worth of the handle into the bowl.

Margaret nodded, mechanically gnawing on the food as she watched the colors change and shift on the screen in front of her, happy to let the warmth throughout her body fill her stomach.

"Do you ever think of all the moments you might've missed out on in school?" Her stepmother asked.

"Sure, the boys I could've kissed, or the time I..." Margaret spoke in between bites, spilling flakes of the cereal all over herself as she went over her lack of love in High School. As she was getting to a juicy story, a beep came from the kitchen, causing her stepmom to put a finger up for her to pause.

The house was filled with a chocolatey smell, and it made Margaret polish off the remaining cereal easily. Her stomach was beyond full, and to relieve some of the pressure, she took a shot.

Her stepmother came back with a baking tray, letting the scent waft into the air, just enough to taunt Margaret. That alone made her slowly get up from where she lay, stumbling into the kitchen.

"Can I get one?" Margaret asked, **** for whatever they were. Brownies, looking gooey and delicious. Reaching out before her brain thought anything of it, she grabbed onto the sides of the pan, yelping loudly in pain as both hands shot back.

"Ow ow ow!" She screamed, shaking her hand.

"Run your hand under the cold water, quick. I'll get you an ice pack!" Her stepmom said, rushing up to get an ice pack. Margaret followed instructions, eyes watering and shivering in front of the sink.

"Hand out sweetie. I have an ice pack." Her stepmom said, making Margaret pull her hand out. The cold relief came quickly to Margaret, followed by the tightening of cloth mitts around her hands. Margaret, confused, was answered by her stepmother. "The ice needs to stay against your hands. Sorry Maggie, I had to improvise something."

Nodding, Margaret felt the pain subside, and her thankfulness grow. "Thank you. I don't know what came over me. You really are so much more street smart then me, I'm all books."

"Don't you worry honeybear, it happens to the best of us. Now, they should be cool enough for you to have a taste. You go watch TV, I'll cut them up for you." Her stepmother said, causing a nod from Margaret.

Soon enough, a plate of vanilla ice cream and brownies came out, and Margaret demolished it. Her high heightened as the weed hit her system once again, and she felt a cool wave of relief in her body. On the couch sat her stepmom, and they rebegan their conversation.

"Right, so back to my story..." Margaret muttered.