Nemesis

I was curious about what he was doing sitting there in the dark, so I approached him to find out. As I got closer, I realized he was taking some black dust and putting it into his nose. My heart sank as I processed what I was seeing. This was a young boy, probably no older than 16, and his name was Thiago.

“What could possibly drive him to this?” I wondered, a mix of concern and disbelief washing over me. I decided to pull out my flashlight, hoping to get a clearer view of the substance in his palm. The beam illuminated what I feared: he was into drugs. It wasn’t just any substance; it was tobacco, and he was stuffing it into his nose in large quantities.

Feeling a surge of urgency, I called out to him, repeating his name three times, each time slightly louder. “Thiago! Thiago! What are you doing?"

He looked up, but his gaze was distant, as if he were somewhere far away. His head hung low, and he waved at me twice, the smoke coming from his mouth curling into the air. “This life," he said softly, almost resigned.

He tried to talk but the words wouldn't come. He tried for a second time and yet I couldn't make out a thing from what he was saying.
"I lost my school fees to betting" he managed to say after several minutes of waiting.