‘This is not a place for invalids, Chantal. This is a place where people are given their freedom.’ ‘I’m blind.’ She said softly. ‘What do ... have the freedom to do?’ Martin’s reply was just as soft. ‘To live.’ He risked taking her hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze this time. ‘Why don’t you let us help you?’ Chantal thought about the long months of therapy and hospitalization she’d just completed, remembering the obstacles she’d overcome. This would just be another and then she could be left. They were beautiful works of punk-rock art. I could have never come close to any of them. A few weeks after my Senior year ended, I was 17... Jason texted me to come hang out at "The Barn", a friend of his who lived out in the sticks, on a bunch of land perfect to ride dirt bikes and four-wheelers. There were always large bonfires/parties and had copious amounts of beer and liquor around. It was far away from everyone that the cops never bothered to drive that far down the county road and bust. More

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