Pockets Full of Dust

I had no idea what was going on. In fact, I was sure that my parents were telling me as little as possible. All I knew was that I was given a harsh-and probably well deserved-ultimatum. Shape up or ship out. Either get my life back on track or be disowned. The last year and a half had been a whirlwind of sex, drugs, and parties. Every seventeen year old boy's dream, right? Wrong. I spent two weeks of the summer locked in a detox center, shuddering out one hell of a bad hangover. Now, two weeks sober and my life was about to change again. So we've come full circle. Here I am sitting in the back seat of my dad's car, trying to ignore the glares he was shooting at me and the quiet sobs from my mom. They were taking me to a place I'd never heard of until two days ago. A prestigious school in the middle of nowhere. My parents were so fed up with me, they were sending me to boarding school. I couldn't entirely blame my parents for sending me away. This had been the suggestion of the judge who oversaw my court case. The options had been jail or boarding school. I thought at the time I was getting off lightly. But now I wasn't so sure. In just a few hours I was going to be surrounded by spoiled rich kids in ugly school uniforms; in classes that I hadn't attended in months. I wasn't going to fit in. I did not belong here. All I knew that as I looked out my window all I'd seen for miles were trees. This was officially the longest car trip ever. And I was desperate for a smoke, a drink, or even some pills to take the edge off.