Priorities. And the lack thereof.

He wasn't at school today.
She checked by his house to make sure he was ok.
She enters the house,
Down the hall,
Fourth on the left.
She notices her hand shaking on the doorknob.
She takes a deep breathe and throws the door open.
The smoke fills her lungs,
Her eyes burn, but it's nothing compared to his eyes,
Bloodshot,
Only slits in his head.
The bong sits in his hands.
He's too out of it to even notice she's there.
The hardest part of this scene before her?
Knowing the drugs are more important to him that she is...