"No pot!" Dylan practically screamed, shoving away from Cam's arm as if it had suddenly turned white hot and burned him. He stumbled backwards and placed his hands on either side of his head, shaking. The branches sunk deep, deep down into his line of vision, obscuring Cam's face and the walls and the boxes, why did Dave own so many things? "It's his fault!" He shouted, "He let him die! He said- oh fuck- he said I'd see him again tomorrow. He said that this afternoon!"