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Descriptive Essay About A Bolivia Day

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A Bolivian Day
When I visited Bolivia in the summer two years ago, I walked into my cousins’ man cave, a room outside the house which harbors all our mischievous acts. With my morning coffee in my hand ready to enjoy the first cigarette of the day, only to see Tim passed out with a black eye and a bloody nose running down his white shirt. With many frightening scenarios running through my head, I notice an orange pill bottle prescribed to an unknown person and Tim’s old high school ID with a faded line of a white powder. “Ah man are you Xanned out again?” I yelled but with no response. A couple of shoves and slaps in the face, Tim wakes up. “Stop man! I just need to rest for a little bit” he replied with an annoyed and tired tone. “Not until you tell me what the hell happened! And clean yourself up man”
I really hated Tim’s abuse of drugs, especially Xanax. We usually do it together but only for a couple of months, until I started not remembering what I have done the day before. Tim is the kind of person who would do anything to get what he desires. Even if it means taking money from my wallet or pawning my electronic stuff. What made it even worse is that he is a natural born liar, who would bend words and commit to his lies no matter how bad or stupid it can sound and eventually get away with it. “Can’t I say I just fell? I really don’t want to talk about it” We always tell each other everything, no matter how bad it is. However, this time Tim may have crossed the line.
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