Some Choices Lead to Misery

Why do we make the choices we do? 
Is it just peer-pressure or curiosity? 
She was apprehensive about going out of town with her cousins. 
She adored them, but didn’t adore their friends. 
All they did was party, smoke, and drink. That wasn’t her kind of environment. 
She felt like an adolescent with them even though she must have been older than half of the guys. 
Then she had seen the most perfect face. He was lanky and ripped. He seemed like he would be a jock but she didn’t care. He had beautiful black bed-head hair, his skin was golden brown and when he smiled he had two dimples on each side of his smile. His eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings, and he smelled warm and spicy united with an ok level of fruity and Italian lemon. 
He offered her a shot of Crown Royal whiskey. She had never taken a shot before but acted like she had, just to impress him. 
She took her first shot… and she felt a continuous sensation of rubbing burns in her throat. It felt like she swallowed a cup of magma. She hated it. She absolutely hated it. But her night at the party was followed by 10 more shots of a variety of alcohol. 
Leaving into the garage with the dreamy boy, he offered her a joint. 
She didn’t know what to do. 
All her life her parents protected her from this. 
But they weren’t here to stop her. 
She took it, and inhaled deeply. 
The joint burned her throat for a second so she exhaled leaving her with a huge cloud. 
She felt bad about everything. 
She felt like she dry-swallowed a pill. 
Under peer-pressure she never stopped. She continuously smoked the life out of that joint. 
Until it was all done, the guy snorted cocaine. 
She knew it. She knew it was her time to stop. 
But what was holding her back?  She was to drunk and high to function. 
Everyone cheered her on to snort the cocaine and to have fun. 
Under the pressure she took the little red container with the cocaine held in it. 
She snorted the cocaine, she smoked the joint, she drank the shots and turned into the human-being she never thought she could be. 
She did it to fit in. To impress the guy. 
She did all this just for a bunch of druggies and no-lifers that she’ll probably never meet again. 
But at that very moment she looked at herself and just thought. I’m just like them now. 
That was the last words to ever go through her mind. 
After a night of persistent amount of smoking, snorting, drinking, and dancing. 
She never woke up the next morning.