Every summer my younger brother, and I would be sent to spend our summer vacation with uncle A, and his family. This changed into been sent to grandma in my teen years. At uncle’s home, my cousin Z, and I spent hours talking, playing together with dolls, Badminton, or board games.
One day Z, and I were sitting on the steps of the back verandah, when she produced a cigarette. It was already lit. She offered it to me to smoke it. I had never smoked it before. I felt it was wrong, so I refused.
She took two, three drags of it, and asked me again. I refused while she started making fun of me calling me a frightened chick. She kept badgering me. I took it from her, and inhaled the smoke. My coughing wouldn’t stop while Z stomped on the cigarette to hide the evidence as to what she was doing.
Those few moments were surreal, as if it was happening to someone else.
That was the one, and only time I touched a cigarette. I always wonder how people who are addicted to smoking can do this to themselves.