What am I thankful for?
damn good question, isn't it.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
i'm absolutely sick of the silence
but silence isn't the only thing i'm absolutely sick of at this point.
i'm so absolutely sick of school. of effort. of 'obligations' and 'connsequences' and all the other crap that parents want to shove down my mind to make us think it's all the right thing, don't do my best but be THE BEST, but what's it even matter anymore, i'm sick of it all
absolutely
sick
and what's it worth if it's not even sincere, meaningful work, i've long since given up, don't care, just, whatever
it's not anything worth even thinking about anymore
lexi's club has gone down the shitter loooong ago but hey what ever. no one cared, i was too busy, she was too involved in her own creation. it sucked.
I've been seeing James a lot recently, though. That's been great. Really. See, even though I've been constantly grounded for failing grades for the past month, a healthy amount of 'community service' might be 'good for the boy' or whatever else their justification was. Screw community service, I went to see James. He's decided to stay a while longer. He's made some friends around here - he included my name, even! - and is enjoying the city.
I think he's crazy for it, but, to each his own?
Anyway.
We've talked, a lot, about a lot of things. Especially life, philosophy, god religion etc and education. we both hate the education system.
but.
that's a discussion for anotheir time.
hah
you know, i've not seen shaun for a while. or lexi, actually. or rose or that other kid, roland. i'm usually alone at school, but! that's okay with me. i prefer that, actually.
hm.
ah i mentioned my grounding. actually, i guess I made it sound like i'm not grounded anymore.
hah. about that.
I just decided that I don't care anymore, i'm taking back my laptop and my phone and i'll keep using my twitter and blogspot and all that.
i'm just so sick of this silence.
Of silence.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Absence
Sorry for the huge absence. I've been grounded for a while.
I don't really want to talk about it.
Anyway. Two weeks ago - has it been two weeks? something like that - I said I had seen James again. It was nice. We talked a bit, I told him about how my life's been, school. I mentioned Lexi's Creative Talents club, and he said he might write a poem or something to share.
James said he'd be staying in Andale for a while longer. I asked him why, but he just got quieter and repeated himself. I didn't push the matter any further, though.
I hung out with Roland at his house after school on Friday. He invited me over after PE, and after a lot of parent-persuading, I got permission. He lives downtown, in the inner-city neighborhoods, kinda near where Rose lives.
You know what uncomfortable is? Uncomfortable is when you're almost definitely the only white guy in a 3-mile-radius of where you are.
Seriously.
But it wasn't terribad or anything. We hung out inside his house most, played basketball and soccer outside for a good while, listened to each other's music. Rap isn't my thing and indie isn't his either.
A shame, too. He didn't like anything from my Death Cab for Cutie collection.
I didn't spend the night, though, because I didn't pack extra clothes and I had kind of not mentioned to my 'rents that they lived in the "bad neighborhoods." Rol's mom was kind enough to drive me home though, so that was all nicely sorted out.
The week's been okay.
It's been okay.
I don't really want to talk about it.
Anyway. Two weeks ago - has it been two weeks? something like that - I said I had seen James again. It was nice. We talked a bit, I told him about how my life's been, school. I mentioned Lexi's Creative Talents club, and he said he might write a poem or something to share.
James said he'd be staying in Andale for a while longer. I asked him why, but he just got quieter and repeated himself. I didn't push the matter any further, though.
I hung out with Roland at his house after school on Friday. He invited me over after PE, and after a lot of parent-persuading, I got permission. He lives downtown, in the inner-city neighborhoods, kinda near where Rose lives.
You know what uncomfortable is? Uncomfortable is when you're almost definitely the only white guy in a 3-mile-radius of where you are.
Seriously.
But it wasn't terribad or anything. We hung out inside his house most, played basketball and soccer outside for a good while, listened to each other's music. Rap isn't my thing and indie isn't his either.
A shame, too. He didn't like anything from my Death Cab for Cutie collection.
I didn't spend the night, though, because I didn't pack extra clothes and I had kind of not mentioned to my 'rents that they lived in the "bad neighborhoods." Rol's mom was kind enough to drive me home though, so that was all nicely sorted out.
The week's been okay.
It's been okay.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Acquaintance
Yesterday I volunteered at a local soup kitchen for school service hours, dishing out simple lunches to the homeless people in a downtown neighborhood here in Andale. I live on the outskirts of town, right in the middle-class suburbs, so I don't often go down there, except when I hang out with Rose at her place. She lives in a kinda poor neighboorhood downtown. I think Roland - my buddy in PE - said he lives not too far from her.
I'm on a tangent again.
Anyway.
So, I was practically a waiter and busboy, I'd go give people their stew and bread and water, deal with the empty plates and clean up the tiny tables that were set up in the downtown community center. Most of the people were fairly obviously poor - dirty, ragged clothes, poor hygiene, things like that. Almost all of them were men and women in their late 30s to 50s. Presumably without jobs or families, friends, or else they wouldn't be homeless, but it's not like I went up to them and talked them out of their life story or anything.
Well, mostly.
There was someone there that caught my attention immediately. He was waiting, sat at a table when I first noticed him. Looked to be about 18 or so, but he didn't look so dejected or miserable like some of the other homeless. In fact he had determination in his eyes, an air of experience and familiarity about him.
The confident teen made for a pretty stark juxtaposition against the washed-up homeless.
I had to talk to him.
I mean, he seemed so interesting - what is a young guy like him doing at a place like this? Why's he homeless? Where's his family? I got over my usual shyness for this unusual encounter.
I delivered him his meal quickly, but instead of hurrying away with a swift 'have a fantastic day' and a smile, I sat with him. He didn't look up at me at first. He quickly devoured about a quarter of his bowl of stew before addressing me.
"What do you want, kiddo?" The words came out with only the slightest hint of condescension in his tone.
"You're not like everyone else here. These are all bums, burnt-out failures with nothing to do but wander the streets, maybe try and beg some money off of someone for a smoke and a drink before resorting back to total poverty. But not you. You're different."
"We're all a little different, now aren't we?"
At least I knew he's not stupid.
"What's your name?"
He paused. He stopped eating, and looked up at me for a second.
Sizing me up, judging silently, seeming to be making decisions in his mind.
"James."
"I'm John." I held my hand out to him, and with no hesitation he returned the handshake.
From there we talked for almost a half hour. I talked to him a bit about my life, and he told me about his.
James is 19 years old, originally from the northeastern side of the US, though he didn't tell me where exactly. He's been traveling the States for the past year or so, mainly down the east coast and has been making his way west, eventually going to make a circle around the map. He's really into seeing all the different sights - the cities, the landscapes, the people.
"Staying low-key is pretty important for me, you know what I mean?"
So, he usually sticks around in the cities he likes, until either he decides it's no longer interesting or he decides that "it'd best to skip town."
Sounds kinda sketchy, but he's a charismatic guy and knows how to tell a tale, so I kept on listening.
James went into detail about some of the other places he's been to, a few stories about his experiences, and the like. He's currently staying in Andale, just arrived on Friday, and wants to stick around for a long while.
He seems to really like the place so far.
I bid him goodbye and farewell, returning to my job as busboy. He's a really interesting guy. I told him I'd try to do more charity work at this particular complex to talk more.
He said that sounded great.
I'm on a tangent again.
Anyway.
So, I was practically a waiter and busboy, I'd go give people their stew and bread and water, deal with the empty plates and clean up the tiny tables that were set up in the downtown community center. Most of the people were fairly obviously poor - dirty, ragged clothes, poor hygiene, things like that. Almost all of them were men and women in their late 30s to 50s. Presumably without jobs or families, friends, or else they wouldn't be homeless, but it's not like I went up to them and talked them out of their life story or anything.
Well, mostly.
There was someone there that caught my attention immediately. He was waiting, sat at a table when I first noticed him. Looked to be about 18 or so, but he didn't look so dejected or miserable like some of the other homeless. In fact he had determination in his eyes, an air of experience and familiarity about him.
The confident teen made for a pretty stark juxtaposition against the washed-up homeless.
I had to talk to him.
I mean, he seemed so interesting - what is a young guy like him doing at a place like this? Why's he homeless? Where's his family? I got over my usual shyness for this unusual encounter.
I delivered him his meal quickly, but instead of hurrying away with a swift 'have a fantastic day' and a smile, I sat with him. He didn't look up at me at first. He quickly devoured about a quarter of his bowl of stew before addressing me.
"What do you want, kiddo?" The words came out with only the slightest hint of condescension in his tone.
"You're not like everyone else here. These are all bums, burnt-out failures with nothing to do but wander the streets, maybe try and beg some money off of someone for a smoke and a drink before resorting back to total poverty. But not you. You're different."
"We're all a little different, now aren't we?"
At least I knew he's not stupid.
"What's your name?"
He paused. He stopped eating, and looked up at me for a second.
Sizing me up, judging silently, seeming to be making decisions in his mind.
"James."
"I'm John." I held my hand out to him, and with no hesitation he returned the handshake.
From there we talked for almost a half hour. I talked to him a bit about my life, and he told me about his.
James is 19 years old, originally from the northeastern side of the US, though he didn't tell me where exactly. He's been traveling the States for the past year or so, mainly down the east coast and has been making his way west, eventually going to make a circle around the map. He's really into seeing all the different sights - the cities, the landscapes, the people.
"Staying low-key is pretty important for me, you know what I mean?"
So, he usually sticks around in the cities he likes, until either he decides it's no longer interesting or he decides that "it'd best to skip town."
Sounds kinda sketchy, but he's a charismatic guy and knows how to tell a tale, so I kept on listening.
James went into detail about some of the other places he's been to, a few stories about his experiences, and the like. He's currently staying in Andale, just arrived on Friday, and wants to stick around for a long while.
He seems to really like the place so far.
I bid him goodbye and farewell, returning to my job as busboy. He's a really interesting guy. I told him I'd try to do more charity work at this particular complex to talk more.
He said that sounded great.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Shaun
This hasn't been a very good weekend.
I went to Shaun's earlier. Yesterday actually. He was in a really terrible mood. I mean, he really was pissed. Maybe he was fighting with his parents again or something, I don't know, but he was totally off.
I guess I just need to vent. Tell someone about what happened. Lexi's busy with her club right now, Rose probably wouldn't be any help at all, just... ugh.
I'm a bit worried about him, Shaun that is, though I often am worried for him now that I think about it... I'll try and remember, roughly, what exactly went on, because the details kind of matter, but it won't be perfect. Oh well.
Anyway.
I'd finished all my homework for Monday, finally done studying and all, even got some stuff done on this English project due on the 4th. It was about.. 5:20 so there was some time still to hang out, so I was more than happy to go chill with Shaun. It's been about a week since I've seen him last, so it was a bit of a no-brainer about what I'd spend the rest of my day doing.
Went in, gave a short greeting to Mrs. Murphy - who (as usual) responded with a glance and a quick 'hey.' Shaun's got a little sister, Alicia, about three years old or so. I'm always nice to her, she's a sweet little girl. She showcased to me her new 'dolly' as I made my way to his room, and I went along with it for a minute until Mr. Murphy's arrival drew her attention to the other side of the house.
"Hey," I say to Shaun as I walked in. All I got was a grunt as a response, but that's pretty normal. He was wired into his Xbox, brow furrowed as his match of Black Ops intensified. He had some old, ratty shirt, a silly graphic tee, "I Declare A Thumb War" in bold grays over a camouflage print.
"Hah, how many times have you worn that shirt, now? It's starting to look a little grody."
"How many times have you worn that face, now? It's starting to look a little ugly."
A real pal, right? I know he doesn't say it with malice, but I wish he'd just chill sometimes. He's always so flipping defensive. Anyway, I pressed on.
"Just finished studying all that world history. Hell of a lot to go over. Want to shoot some hoops outside?"
Now I don't know why, but Shaun owns a basketball goal, sitting at the front of the lawn facing the street. Little kids from the streets around us use it more than we do, but it's there nonetheless. Shaun's not quite the athletic type if you know what I mean so I'm not even sure why he owns it.
"Pfft. Basketball. Such a retarded sport."
"Come on, we used to play all the time, and I'm willing to bet you've not been doing much other than Call of Duty today. Come out and play."
"You're an idiot, John."
That really got under my skin. I mean, he's usually a bit of a douche, but after so much damn work all I wanted to do was have fun with my best friend. I shouldn't have responded the way I did, but I was pretty annoyed.
"God, Shaun, do you even realize how much of an ass you can be?"
"Piss off."
I'm hardly ever that mad. I should have just stopped the conversation right here. Could've said 'whatever, just start a two-player match, then.' Anything.
But, I was pissed. My voice grew louder.
"Why do I even bother? No, seriously, Shaun. Tell me why I even bother coming over here to hang out with you. It's not like I see any of your other friends here."
And it's true. I can't remember the last time I've seen another car parked in Shaun's driveway. It's like nobody, not even his cousins or extended family, come to visit the Murphys.
Shaun didn't respond. He was barely even focused on his game at this point - his eyes stared hard at the screen, thumbs moving slowly, as if they were numb. He died several times - but he obviously wasn't bothered.
I spoke up again.
"That's what I thought." Again I waited for any sort of response from Shaun. His thumbs picked up speed, dancing across the controller. Graceful, like sumo wrestlers.
I don't like flipping shit like that, but, hey. He was being a complete jerk.
I stormed out of the house, without a word to Shaun's parents nor to Alicia. The Mister and Missus were stooped over bills and checkbooks in the kitchen - they probably never noticed me leave until the door slammed behind me.
Fuming, I walked across the street to my own home. As I was heading back, the scene replayed in my head, and I didn't even notice my gait slowly halting, until finally I stopped halfway up my front lawn.
What the hell was I doing? Shaun's my best friend. I took three long, somewhat-calming breaths, and turned back.
I didn't even knock. "Come on in, make yourself at home, brat..." Shaun's mother said. I heard Mr. Murphy mumble behind me, too. "Obnoxious much?" and their attention returned to finances.
I made my way straight to his room. "C'mon. We're playing basketball."
"J---"
"No, we are going, now. Come on. Daylight don't last forever."
He put on his familiar air of annoyance, but he trudged along behind me.
He sighed. "Let's get this over with..."
He put more effort into that game, probably, than he's put into any game before. For once, he creamed me.
It was almost enjoyable after that.
I went to Shaun's earlier. Yesterday actually. He was in a really terrible mood. I mean, he really was pissed. Maybe he was fighting with his parents again or something, I don't know, but he was totally off.
I guess I just need to vent. Tell someone about what happened. Lexi's busy with her club right now, Rose probably wouldn't be any help at all, just... ugh.
I'm a bit worried about him, Shaun that is, though I often am worried for him now that I think about it... I'll try and remember, roughly, what exactly went on, because the details kind of matter, but it won't be perfect. Oh well.
Anyway.
I'd finished all my homework for Monday, finally done studying and all, even got some stuff done on this English project due on the 4th. It was about.. 5:20 so there was some time still to hang out, so I was more than happy to go chill with Shaun. It's been about a week since I've seen him last, so it was a bit of a no-brainer about what I'd spend the rest of my day doing.
Went in, gave a short greeting to Mrs. Murphy - who (as usual) responded with a glance and a quick 'hey.' Shaun's got a little sister, Alicia, about three years old or so. I'm always nice to her, she's a sweet little girl. She showcased to me her new 'dolly' as I made my way to his room, and I went along with it for a minute until Mr. Murphy's arrival drew her attention to the other side of the house.
"Hey," I say to Shaun as I walked in. All I got was a grunt as a response, but that's pretty normal. He was wired into his Xbox, brow furrowed as his match of Black Ops intensified. He had some old, ratty shirt, a silly graphic tee, "I Declare A Thumb War" in bold grays over a camouflage print.
"Hah, how many times have you worn that shirt, now? It's starting to look a little grody."
"How many times have you worn that face, now? It's starting to look a little ugly."
A real pal, right? I know he doesn't say it with malice, but I wish he'd just chill sometimes. He's always so flipping defensive. Anyway, I pressed on.
"Just finished studying all that world history. Hell of a lot to go over. Want to shoot some hoops outside?"
Now I don't know why, but Shaun owns a basketball goal, sitting at the front of the lawn facing the street. Little kids from the streets around us use it more than we do, but it's there nonetheless. Shaun's not quite the athletic type if you know what I mean so I'm not even sure why he owns it.
"Pfft. Basketball. Such a retarded sport."
"Come on, we used to play all the time, and I'm willing to bet you've not been doing much other than Call of Duty today. Come out and play."
"You're an idiot, John."
That really got under my skin. I mean, he's usually a bit of a douche, but after so much damn work all I wanted to do was have fun with my best friend. I shouldn't have responded the way I did, but I was pretty annoyed.
"God, Shaun, do you even realize how much of an ass you can be?"
"Piss off."
I'm hardly ever that mad. I should have just stopped the conversation right here. Could've said 'whatever, just start a two-player match, then.' Anything.
But, I was pissed. My voice grew louder.
"Why do I even bother? No, seriously, Shaun. Tell me why I even bother coming over here to hang out with you. It's not like I see any of your other friends here."
And it's true. I can't remember the last time I've seen another car parked in Shaun's driveway. It's like nobody, not even his cousins or extended family, come to visit the Murphys.
Shaun didn't respond. He was barely even focused on his game at this point - his eyes stared hard at the screen, thumbs moving slowly, as if they were numb. He died several times - but he obviously wasn't bothered.
I spoke up again.
"That's what I thought." Again I waited for any sort of response from Shaun. His thumbs picked up speed, dancing across the controller. Graceful, like sumo wrestlers.
I don't like flipping shit like that, but, hey. He was being a complete jerk.
I stormed out of the house, without a word to Shaun's parents nor to Alicia. The Mister and Missus were stooped over bills and checkbooks in the kitchen - they probably never noticed me leave until the door slammed behind me.
Fuming, I walked across the street to my own home. As I was heading back, the scene replayed in my head, and I didn't even notice my gait slowly halting, until finally I stopped halfway up my front lawn.
What the hell was I doing? Shaun's my best friend. I took three long, somewhat-calming breaths, and turned back.
I didn't even knock. "Come on in, make yourself at home, brat..." Shaun's mother said. I heard Mr. Murphy mumble behind me, too. "Obnoxious much?" and their attention returned to finances.
I made my way straight to his room. "C'mon. We're playing basketball."
"J---"
"No, we are going, now. Come on. Daylight don't last forever."
He put on his familiar air of annoyance, but he trudged along behind me.
He sighed. "Let's get this over with..."
He put more effort into that game, probably, than he's put into any game before. For once, he creamed me.
It was almost enjoyable after that.
Friday, September 16, 2011
anniversary
Mary Catherine Louise.
My best friend, for almost as long as I can remember.
We had so much in common... It's almost insane how close we were.
Even back in Kindergarten, when we first met. We were always play-pals during activity times. Sat together in lunch - even back in those times when the lunchtables were practically segregated by gender.
I remember how crushed I was when her parents wanted to her to get a 'better education' at a private school on the other side of town, back in...fourth grade.
Taking an eight-year-old girl away from all her friends and especially her best friend of all, and dropping her into a pretentious school filled with snooty little kids?
Not the best idea. It wasn't even a full semester until that was over with.
MC was such a great person... Always was willing to be anyone's best buddy at any moment, always so helpful and smart and willing to lend a helping hand... She was in as many clubs as she could be in, she'd always be the first to jump up and volunteer for anything, for anybody.
Mary Catherine was always very popular. Always had plans after school, on weekends, always hanging out with a group of friends. A valued member of any and all cliques, basically. I loved her, and she loved everyone, but she and I were actually, honestly, emotionally close, and for so long.
I've had close friends. Lexi is such a great friend. {SEAN - TO BE DECIDED} Roland, he's way cool too, and he's nice to me, but... They've all got others. Other friends. No time for me. Not always, anyway.
But...
A year ago.
Yesterday.
One fucking year ago yesterday.
MC and I were always very smart. Not as crazy-intelligent as Lexi is (i'll get flack for that probably but who cares) but we did very well in school, and we were always in the 'smart kid' classes through elementary school together, and we'd participate in this one organization's exclusive academic competition throughout middle and junior high school.
Last year, as freshmen in high school, we were in the big leagues as far as that stuff went - competitions between highschoolers all over Texas, not just from our grade but sophomores, juniors, seniors, too.
We were in the usual competitions - creative writing, mental math, and on-site drawing for me, and creative writing, reading comprehension, and prose recitation for MC. In middle school I'd always done very well in the writing and reading competitions, and mostly participated in art ones for the fun of it. Same goes for MC - she was such a creative girl - but this year, this year was different.
Like I said, 'the big leagues.'
Bus trip to Houston, stayed at a run-of-the mill hotel, decent rooms, rec room and a pool. An unremarkable place to stay, to say the least. The hotel itself was mediocre, but especially the pool, it was murky and the water was a sickly off-green color.
First day was just a chill-out day, arrived at the hotel late Friday night, unpacked, got ready for the competitions the next day. The plan was to get there on Friday, participate in the competitions all Saturday, and leave early Sunday morning.
The whole academic team did fairly well in our subjects. We're not district champion material but not at all close to being the worst participating school. Though, it's always the super-genius homeschooled kids that do the best. Their scores are practically exponentially better than anyone else's.
(It's ridiculous, it's as if they're bred only to perform mental math, to study Shakesperean drama, to remember every little thing about anything at all, walking talking machines engineered purely for the sole existence of academic perfection as if school is the only thing that matters at all in their godforsaken life, striving for excellence for their entire childhood wasting days weeks months years reciting fact by fact equation by equation learning studying science math reading music, and for what, to prove that you're better than some other kid that you don't care about or even know beyond the basic competitive mindset that they. are. your. enemy.)god damn school
The whole academic team did fairly well in our subjects. We're not district champion material but not at all close to being the worst participating school. Though, it's always the super-genius homeschooled kids that do the best. Their scores are practically exponentially better than anyone else's.
(It's ridiculous, it's as if they're bred only to perform mental math, to study Shakesperean drama, to remember every little thing about anything at all, walking talking machines engineered purely for the sole existence of academic perfection as if school is the only thing that matters at all in their godforsaken life, striving for excellence for their entire childhood wasting days weeks months years reciting fact by fact equation by equation learning studying science math reading music, and for what, to prove that you're better than some other kid that you don't care about or even know beyond the basic competitive mindset that they. are. your. enemy.)
Competitions were over. We were done, finished, awards would be given in the coming weeks, all that jazz. Weary from the long day, MC and I went to the pool. Earlier, I said how it was gross? It was pretty crappy. So cloudy you couldn't even see the bottom when you were at the deep end.
But, hey. It's a pool, right? Always a great idea to take a dip in the pool after a tiring day, yeah?
pretty flipping stupid of
A few of the others from our team came down with us, but they went straight back to their rooms when they saw the condition of the place.
But we stayed.
I can almost remember every
single
second
of the entire hour.
She walked outside, still wearing her glasses from earlier. Those really dorky looking ones that she hated wearing for exactly that reason. But her eyesight, to put it plainly, was horrible. Seriously, when I would try to put them on for a bit I would feel like my eyes got crappier just by wearing those glasses.
anyway, since wearing your contacts in a pool - especially one as horrible as that one - is a surefire way of losing them forever, glasses it was for that day.
We used to play a game, a game kind of like The Game or other similar games that don't really end or stop, but just start up at any spontaneous moment. In short, when we were together and one of us turned our back on the other, shouting "Count to 30!" would initiate a quick game of hide-and-seek wherever we happened to be. Just a silly game between friends.
Anyway, being the slight klutz that she
"Count to 30!" I called.
"Fine, fine! Let me grab my glasses and I'll be counting on the way. Go hide while I'm down."
And so I hid.
I hid behind some bushes about twenty feet off from the pool, pretty hard to see from the walkway, door, or even from the pool.
As I hurried to my chosen hiding spot, I heard the quiet splash of Mary Catherine diving headlong into the pool to retrieve her glasses, already counting, already at "2!"
I sat and waited.
five seconds.
ten.
half a minute.
a minute.
'How long does it take to find your glasses?' I thought to myself.
two minutes.
'Alright, I guess she's out and looking for me and I just haven't heard her.'
three minutes.
I realized that something was off.
I stepped out of the bushes. I didn't see her.
"HOLY SHIT!"
I looked frantically around the perimeter, I gave a quick glance inside, I couldn't find her anywhere.
I'm not a good swimmer, but I jumped in. Where else could she be?
I slid into the water, and quickly swam down. It was impossible to see and that disgusting water stung my eyes like no other.
Feeling around
frantically
no idea where she was
it was hell
After a few seconds that seemed like several eternities - cliché as that phrase is, it's absolutely true - I found, held, gripped her body (limp and not responding) tightly as I could and pushed my way up as fast as possible, pushed her up, ran straight inside yelled for help for nine-one-one for anyone who knew what to do, she was dead there and i knew it but of course would not believe it and did not know what to do even as staff came through the doors even as our schoolmates crowded around her
cradled in my arms
hair matted with mostly-washed-away blood
neither was her chest moving nor mouth breathing, her eyes however, open but empty, blankly staring at nothing
and i could do nothing but stare back at the same hollow nothingness in my best friend, my mary catherine, my MC, my. best. friend.
i don't remember anything after that
i was told that i blacked out
with a scream
Friday, September 9, 2011
Football!
Football game was okay, I enjoyed myself for most of it.
The beginning was the worst. Rose and Roland were the only friends I had there - so that was a bit uncomfortable... I think - sometimes, just sometimes - that Rose doesn't really like me very much because I'm not cool or popular. She's a good friend, though, pretty and funny and all that, but she's very outgoing.
I'm... not.
The extreme social atmosphere of the game, plus the small-but-growing crowd of semi-popular guys and their 'lady friends' - code for 'ho's, I guess? - surrounding Rose (therefore, Rol and I as well) made me a tad uneasy.
Rose was flitting about from group to group as usual, and finally was back to Roland and I. To the group as a whole, she was as flirtatious as always - crude jokes, innuendos, while batting those long, mascara-coated eyelashes of hers.
Of course, the gallery of guys present were egging her on. And she seemed to love the attention, but came back to Rol and I. She started focusing her attention on me.
Maybe she thinks it'd give her some sort of 'cred' to get someone as introverted as myself to go along with her little games? That's my best guess, but you can never really tell with Rose.
As she finished her last joke - a particularly suggestive one, at that - she threw her arms around me (an unprecedented action. While she is...extremely flirtatious...she's never been physical like that with me).
Some of those other guys were practically salivating. I think that's raaather sad, but, whatever.
With a little giggle and a swift wink, she continues. "Heh, right, John? Yeah?"
"Uh, yeah. I guess."
Clearly not the smooth, responsive reply that she was hoping for. She privately shot me a look and ran off to get some other poor guy's blood pumping.
Anyway, after that, Roland and I caught up with Shaun and Lexi at the gate. We hung out in the corner of where the bleachers and field meet, sat for a long while, just chatted it up for the rest of the game - which actually wasn't all that bad to watch, with company. Had a pretty good time from then on, actually! About half-way through the game, Rose caught up with us - alone this time - and hung around the rest of the game.
Roland and Rose are pretty funny people, even apart from each other. When they're together, though, the laughter's practically endless. :) After the game we all headed off to IHOP and had a late dinner - ate around 11-ish or so? - and I got home maybe...15 minutes ago.
Ha, it was a pretty good start to the weekend. Maybe I should start going to the games more often.
And... I guess I shouldn't really worry about Rose's behavior... Right? I mean, no harm done... Just a bit much.
The beginning was the worst. Rose and Roland were the only friends I had there - so that was a bit uncomfortable... I think - sometimes, just sometimes - that Rose doesn't really like me very much because I'm not cool or popular. She's a good friend, though, pretty and funny and all that, but she's very outgoing.
I'm... not.
The extreme social atmosphere of the game, plus the small-but-growing crowd of semi-popular guys and their 'lady friends' - code for 'ho's, I guess? - surrounding Rose (therefore, Rol and I as well) made me a tad uneasy.
Rose was flitting about from group to group as usual, and finally was back to Roland and I. To the group as a whole, she was as flirtatious as always - crude jokes, innuendos, while batting those long, mascara-coated eyelashes of hers.
Of course, the gallery of guys present were egging her on. And she seemed to love the attention, but came back to Rol and I. She started focusing her attention on me.
Maybe she thinks it'd give her some sort of 'cred' to get someone as introverted as myself to go along with her little games? That's my best guess, but you can never really tell with Rose.
As she finished her last joke - a particularly suggestive one, at that - she threw her arms around me (an unprecedented action. While she is...extremely flirtatious...she's never been physical like that with me).
Some of those other guys were practically salivating. I think that's raaather sad, but, whatever.
With a little giggle and a swift wink, she continues. "Heh, right, John? Yeah?"
"Uh, yeah. I guess."
Clearly not the smooth, responsive reply that she was hoping for. She privately shot me a look and ran off to get some other poor guy's blood pumping.
Anyway, after that, Roland and I caught up with Shaun and Lexi at the gate. We hung out in the corner of where the bleachers and field meet, sat for a long while, just chatted it up for the rest of the game - which actually wasn't all that bad to watch, with company. Had a pretty good time from then on, actually! About half-way through the game, Rose caught up with us - alone this time - and hung around the rest of the game.
Roland and Rose are pretty funny people, even apart from each other. When they're together, though, the laughter's practically endless. :) After the game we all headed off to IHOP and had a late dinner - ate around 11-ish or so? - and I got home maybe...15 minutes ago.
Ha, it was a pretty good start to the weekend. Maybe I should start going to the games more often.
And... I guess I shouldn't really worry about Rose's behavior... Right? I mean, no harm done... Just a bit much.
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