Ashton: You were gathering your son’s clothing, ready to do laundry when you caught the smell of something that wasn’t normal. You smelled again, holding the hoodie that you had in your hands. You straightened up, feeling a certain weight that made the hoodie heavier. You couldn’t help but wonder, but also to confirm your present thought as you reached into the front kangaroo pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. You cringed, holding the packet in your hands. You stared at it, wondering how and when your son had began this filthy habit. You sighed, putting the sweater in the laundry basket, and ignoring it until later. You walked down the stairs to see Ashton, your husband, leaning back against his chair, reading the local newspaper. He looked up when you walked in, his eyebrows furrowing, surely at your expression. “What?” He said, folding up his paper, and putting it aside. You wordlessly held out the packet in his view, and his face dropped. “He smokes?” Ashton growled, his eyes ablaze. He stood up, pacing. “When’s he home?” Ash said. You shook your head, “He should be home around nine,” You said, glancing at the clock above the mantle. Only a few more hours, and than all hell would break loose. “He’s in for it,” Ashton threatened, sitting back down fuming. “Where did he even get this habit? One of his friends I bet you. Its not us, unless you want to tell me something?” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “Go easy on him.” You said, your maternal instincts kicking in. “Easy on him? He’s picking up a habit that could kill him. Easy on him?” He spat. “I’m livid. This will stop.” He said pointing accusingly at the pack in your hand. You sighed, knowing he was right. Later that night, your son walked through the front door to see yourself and Ashton sitting on the couch, the pack of cigarettes on the table in front of you. “Hey,” He said, walking past the both of you, his gaze trained on his phone. “Come back here. Now.” Ashton said, and you shot him a look. Your son walked back, slowly - you could judge by his footsteps as he came into view. “Come here,” Ashton said standing up. Your son walked towards his father, and as he came closer, you saw Ashton inhale. He scoffed, sitting down. “Tell me what that is.” He pointed to the pack on the table, and you saw his face drop. “Where did you get that?” He said, his voice low and hesitant. “I found them in your hoodie,” You finally spoke up and he shot you a look. “What were you doing going through my shit?” He spat at you. You sat up a little straighter. “Don’t you ever speak to your Mother like that.” Ashton growled. “I was doing your laundry you asked me to do. What did I find in your pocket?” You spoke coldly, disappointment coating your words like venom. “When did it start?” Ashton said. Your son hesitated before confessing. “A few months ago. I don’t do it often, its just when I’m with my friends.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I don’t care if its casually. Its going to stop. I will not have my son inhaling toxic fumes to look cool.” Ashton said. “I see you with a cigarette, I even smell a whiff of smoke, if I see that filthy thing near you, you’re grounded, that trip your going on is cancelled. Oh, and your licence? Give it to me now.” You son stood there gaping at Ashton, and you were a little impressed with how Ashton was handling the situation. “That’s not fair! Its not like I do it all the time!” Your son protested. “Well, you don’t drive all the time either. Hand it up. Now.” Your son turned to you, his face distraught. “Mum, please.” He pleaded, but you shook your head. “Listen to your Father.” You said, as much as it hurt you to speak to your son like that, you were beyond disappointed. You son blinked, before turning an angry shade of red. He reached into his wallet, grabbing his licence with aggression and throwing it at Ashton. “Fuck you both.” He said, storming up the stairs, the door slamming loudly. You cringed, looking to Ashton. “Was I too hard on him?” He asked, picking up the licence. “No, you made your point. I can’t believe he would pick that up.” You shook your head, standing up and cringing as the bass shook the floor from his bedroom. “He’ll break it soon enough, and if he doesn’t, I’ll follow through with my threats.” He said, shrugging. You nodded your head, grabbing the pack of cigarettes, and tossing them into the trash. And hopefully, that would be the last pack you threw away.
Calum: You sat up, nervousness coursing through your veins. Your daughter was home late, well past her curfew. You and Calum were sitting up, ringing her cell but to no end would she answer it. If she didn’t come home in a few more hours you were going to call the cops, concerned for where she was. It wasn’t a few minutes later did you daughter stumble through the door, clutching the doorframe to steady herself. “Where have you been?” Calum roared at her, when she regained her balance and kicked off of her shoes, giggling. “Are you drunk?” You asked, dumbfounded. “Nooo” She said, but the smell of alcohol reeked off of her, and you shook your head. “Where were you?” Calum asked, crossing his arms. “Studying at my friends house.” She spoke with her hardest effort to seem honest and serious but failed miserably. “Studying was it?” You said. “Studying the contents of alcohol in blood by doing an experiment?” You questioned, and Calum grabbed your hand. “No… we were studying for… english.” She said, and you rolled your eyes. “Get up to your room, and sober up. We’ll continue this when you can function properly.” Your daughter, nodded her head, and you could see her stumble to her room. How much she drank you would never know, but you heard her door close, and a crash making you cringe. Calum sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think she was like that.” He said, shaking his head. “Neither did I. It’s a Thursday night. She’s sixteen.” Your voice cracked. “Hey it’s okay. We’ll talk to her in the morning. Its not your fault.” He reassured you and you nodded your head, allowing Calum to guide you to your shared bedroom and get ready for bed. The morning came in a blink of an eye, although you hardly slept. You made your way to the kitchen, Calum hot on your heels, awaiting your daughters entrance. Her alarm went off, and you could hear her stumble down the stairs, this time from fatigue. “Shit,” She cursed when she saw both of you waiting in the kitchen. “Care to explain about last night?” Calum asked, leaning against the counter. “Um, I was studying.” She said, slowly. “But he whipped out a bottle of booze… and one thing led to another…” She trailed off. You had to admit that she was being honest with you guys, but something caught your attention, as well as Calum. “He? I didn’t know you were at a guys house?” You said, shock evident in your expression and voice. She cringed realizing what she had just said before looking up. “He’s just a friend.” She looked down again. You searched her, your eyes travelling over her body, before landing on her neck. There was a slight blemish and you raised an eyebrow. “Just a friend. I think from now on you can study at home. For a while you can study at home.” Calum said, seeing the same thing that you saw. “But-“ She began, and he cut her off. “Take this gently, we can do far worse.” Calum said, and she nodded her head. “Sorry” She said softly, and you relaxed. “Get ready for school, and take something for your hangover.” He said, smiling at her. She nodded her head, leaving the kitchen. You turned to Calum and smiled. “I think we handled that well.” You spoke a little slower, baffled that this situation would even arise. “I know. I think we need to expect her to rebel a little, look at her old Dad.” He laughed a little. “It still doesn’t make up for the fact what she did was wrong. But, I don’t think it will happen again, she’s pretty good with learning her lesson.” He said, grabbing you into a hug. “Should I… um… talk to her about birth control?” You asked, a little uncomfortable. Calum cringed, but shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt. I don’t want to think of my little girl doing that. Stop.” He shook his head, cringing again. You nodded your head, agreeing, but still worrying about your daughter nonetheless.
Luke: Your son and came through the door, disregarding both of you and making a b-line for the kitchen. You shrugged, he was a growing boy and surely he was hungry. But at this time of night, it was a little unusual. He came in the living room, a bag of chips in his grasp, but when he walked by, you could smell something very unusual and very wrong. You took another sniff and looked at your son that resembled Luke, as if it was a mini him. You looked at your husband, and he had the same look upon his face as you did. “What’s that smell?” He asked, and you wanted to smack him. “What? Oh nothing,” He said, his words were separated slowly, and you ha an inkling feeling as to what was causing it. Your thoughts were reaffirmed when you caught a glimpse of his eyes that were bloodshot and bleary. Disappointment filled your belly like a hot poison, and you sighed. “You’ve high.” You stated. Your son looked at you, before shaking his head. “Me? No, Mum.” He said, waving his hand, before dipping it into the bag to draw out a chip. He crunched noisily, making sounds of enjoyment. “We will not have you partaking in illegal drugs.” Luke said, sitting up straighter. “I’m not high!” He exclaimed, and you rolled your eyes. “Its obvious, enough. Stop fooling around.” You scolded. “Dad, c’mon. You were in a band, you still are. You’ve probably done more shit than me.” He said. Luke scoffed, before glaring at his son. “First off, do not speak to me like that. Secondly, I would never.” He spoke with a deadly calm. Your son rolled his eyes again, crunching away. “Stop it! You certainly don’t see the problem with this. It is illegal. It is a drug. It is not healthy! You will stop smoking, or taking this drug immediately. I don’t care that your father is in a band, or that your friends do it, and that you want to look cool. I don’t care if a girl thinks you’re hot because you do it. You won’t ever, I repeat ever inhale marijuana ever again.” Your voice shook with force, because you were so angry. “Whoa, Mum. Okay. Sorry.” He said, and you were taken aback. You blinked, a little dumbfounded before nodding. “Okay, I’m glad you understand.” You sat back a little, and you felt Luke’s heavy gaze on you. “Well, you both are killing my last high…so I’m going to my room.” He stood up, grabbing the bag of chips with him, and leaving in a cloud of weed. “Who’s this woman sitting on my couch, and where is my wife?” Luke teased. You stuck out your tongue, sitting back further. “You whipped out the big guns there, good on you.” He said, laughing. “Well, someone had to. I won’t have him throw away his future because of a silly plant.” You said. “I didn’t think that he would do that you know? He hangs out with a good group of kids, he is focused on school, I don’t know where that is coming from?” You sighed. “Its his age. He’s experimenting. You remembering being that age I’m sure. Remember what we did?” He said coyly. You shook your head grinning. “That was a different time,” You tried to feebly defend your actions that lingered in your memory. “Ease up on him babe, he’s just a kid. Let him have his fun before life takes over.” Luke advised making you groan. “If his grades go down…” “Than we’ll have a word. But for now, let him be.” Luke said, smiling at you. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, before looking towards the hallway where your sons bedroom door was. You wondered if this was a phase or this was a time that you had screwed up. He was a good kid, never really doing anything stupid. But, you wondered what had spurred this on, and whether he would take your words seriously or not.
Michael: You and Michael were livid, to say the least. Your daughter sat in front of you, cringing at every bellow that Michael let loose, but this was something a little more serious. Michael had found a pack of cigarettes, a pipe that surely held weed, and an empty two six under her bed while he was vacuuming. She had lied and told you both that she was holding it for a friend, but the more she talked the more your realized that you had overlooked your daughters vices. She would come home late, but you would see her to bed, and not notice the smell of something on her. But now that you reflected, you could surely say it was either weed or smoke lingering on her clothes and hair. “You don’t know how much you’ve disappointed us,” Michael said, crossing his arms. Your daughter sank further into the sofa, and your heart broke a little. She was your little girl after all, and seeing her upset because of her fathers wrath was unsettling to say the least. “I’m sorry Dad,” She repeated, but Michael wouldn’t hear any of it. “I can get by with once. You tried it. But continuing, that’s just wrong. You’re underage for smoking and drinking, not to mention that marijuana is illegal.” Michael took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a fleeting moment. “You’re not going out for a while. Let that be known. Your phone is mine for the next two weeks, any plans you can cancel.” He said, and your daughters eyes filled with tears. “You will help out with all chores, no questions asked. You will go to Grandma and Grandpas, and you will help them, listen to them, and you will be polite. Oh, and that tattoo you were going to get? That can be postponed. For quite a bit.” He added. Your daughter now let the tears flow freely. “I said I was sorry! That’s not fair!” She sobbed, and all you wanted to do was hug her, but you knew that would defeat the purpose. “It is fair. You could have chose to not do any of that. You could have chose to not drink, not smoke either weed or cigarettes. And if you chose not to do any of that, you wouldn’t be in this current situation.” You daughter stared at her hands nodding. “Go to your room. Your punishment begins now.” You daughter stood up, walking away. You breathed out the breath you were holding, and Michael turned to you. You could tell he was angry, just by the way his jaw clenched, his veins in his neck prominent, and the way his fists clenched at his sides. “I can’t believe she did all of that.” He growled, sitting down and rubbing his face. “I feel like such an awful person, and a horrible father. She probably hates me, but I can’t continue to ignore the fact that my daughter is spiralling out of control. She had better straighten up.” Michael taunted, and you nodded your head. “Its not your fault.” You said. He nodded his head, his eyes clearly tired. “She’ll come around, she took that pretty well actually.” He agreed, before turning to you. “Do you think I was too hard on her?” He said softly, and you shook your head. “She needs to learn. She’s done some pretty stupid stuff, but this takes the cake.” You said, patting his knee. “Come on big Dad, lets get lunch.” You sad, leading him to the kitchen. He followed you, sighing, and looking at his daughters door as he passed with sympathetic eyes. You could hear the slight sound of muffled sobs, and your heart broke a little more, but you swallowed past your sorrow, and put on the Mum face. You needed her to learn her lesson.