I only ate applesauce in the kitchen, but I read in a lot of different places. The bed. The floor. The couch. I tried the backyard but the grass made my forearms itch. One time in 7th grade my teacher caught me reading Harry Potter under the desk. She scolded me. She also taught me how to cook baklava. I read another paragraph before I put it back in my bag. I butchered the baklava.

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Then I began to write, and I've been chasing the high of writing "The Weed" ever since.