BAD HABIT

He hit me again, only this time he pre warned me before he stretched out his massive muscular fingers and swiped my face with them. How do I always end up here? Why do I always end up here? It always turns out the same you know; we fight, I hurt his pride and then he hurts me. I pack my stuff and head over to Liz’s house where she lectures me, yet again, on how I am going to end up like the girls in the news, dead, and it scares her to death.
Smoking is probably the deadliest habit one can become addicted to. Statistics show that there are 1.1 billion smokers in the world today, and if current trends continue, that number is expected to increase to 1.6 billion by the year 2025. The filter In the cigarettes is probably the most disturbing piece of “cotton” ever made. It is made up of thin fiber plastic and each time you inhale, guess what, you inhale all of those tiny fibers. So, it is kind of ironic that it’s called a filter.
She threatened to call the cops numerous times, and I always went with it, all proud and strong but something always pulled me back from the third one that I would punch into the phone. It wasn’t because I was scared he’d kill me because he could have easily done it a million times and it wasn’t because I was so completely head over heels in love with him. I think it was because that in some weird, twisted way, I always thought it was my fault and I wouldn’t want to punish him for my mistakes. “Lau, this isn’t the first time he has done this to you. When are you going to learn? When you’re lying in a casket and all of your friends and family are crying over your dead beaten body?” She was so right and I could clearly see that and yet I acted naïve and played the whole “He doesn’t mean it when he hits me. Sometimes it gets too out of control”. Wow. Did I just say that? I just sounded exactly like the girls on television that I always get so annoyed at for letting a man put a finger on them.
The nicotine that is within the cigarette is the addicting part of the cigarette. The average cigarette contains 8 or 9 milligrams of nicotine. Statistics also show that there is enough nicotine in four cigarettes to kill an adult if ingested whole. So when you are smoking because of stress at work, because you are sad and unhappy or even if you are one of those “weekend” smokers, it is true you are not going to die right then and there but you are killing yourself slowly.
Now my phone is being blown up by this asshole. I can already imagine how this whole scenario will be played out the minute I answer my phone. It would probably go a little something like this; “Baby I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that to you. I could never forgive myself ever again. Please come home. I need you to come home”. And I would probably say ; “I know you didn’t mean it and it I started the whole thing so I’m the one who is sorry”. Not this time. You know what they say, three strikes and you’re out. I turned off my phone and decided to finally just let him go.
Do you like whales? All people I bet love whales. They are the big friendly animals of the sea. Did you know that cigarettes contain Ambergris, or in other words, whale vomit. Whale vomit is what the manufacturers use as another addictive item within their cigarettes. There is also radio active lead added to the creation of the cigarette. Fun huh? Another by product used in cigarettes, Hydrogen cyanide, was used as a genocidal chemical agent in World War II. Cigarettes are pretty nasty yet, people still smoke them to make themselves feel better. Another ironic statement; I guess I should really quit smoking.
As I left my best friends house, I reassured her that I was never going back to him again. Her voice was shaky as she tried to convince herself that I was telling the truth, but she and I both knew that I wasn’t that strong. On the drive to my parents house, I started to shake pervasively, thinking about how I was going to explain the black eye, and bruises on my arms to my mother. I also thought about him, and how he really needs me In his life and that if something ever happened to him, I could never forgive myself. I pulled over on the side of the road, and although many people wouldn’t need to argue both sides of this case, I found myself in the worst predicament of my life. I was terrified to go back, yet I was horrified to leave. Next thing I know, my foot is pressing down the gas and an hour later, I am parked outside of his house. He walked out with a bouquet of my favorite flowers, and all I could think of at that moment that all of this seemed way too familiar.