Tuesday, June 12, 2012

School of Despair

On Sunday a student from my school passed away in a tragic accident. He was part of the graduating class, like myself, and I've known him since kinder garden. And... and it's just so horrible. I don't even know how to explain this properly. It's like you're a helpless mess on the sidelines. You know why there is change, and you feel the change head on, but there is no end in sight and you're just there. You're just sadly standing there realizing how life can just be over, no matter your age.

Our school is a wreck; I don't know how it's still standing. When I enter the place I feel like a wave of grief just washes over me, and when I leave I realize it doesn't go away. It soaks your clothes and sticks to your skin like some kind of infection, but you welcome it because at this point there is nothing else to feel. The tears flow effortlessly even when you think you're breathing normally. Nothing is the same.

You can't concentrate because your thoughts keep circling him. Grade two, he was my best friend. It's weird thinking back because we are obviously much different, but it's the innocents of elementary school that doesn't make you question anything. He was the 'bad-boy' and I was the wannabe tomboy that followed in his footsteps. He was the leader in our Ghost Busters club where we ran around all recess collecting bad ghosts and locking them up. He would squish little red spiders with his fingers and go ask the playground teacher for a Band-Aid. We cheated together during a school wide run to get more laps by sneaking through the school every lap. We had a playful little stone fight and got in trouble by having to sit on a wall for the whole recess, and boy was I mad. That was the first time I got put on the wall and of course I blamed him, but that didn't stop me from getting put on the wall again with him for touching an out of bounds area in our field. I let him copy my homework and waited for him during recess when he had detention because he didn't copy my homework fast enough.

He was probably a horrible influence to grade two Stephanie, but we were best friends so who cares? We had a lot of fun times, but of course we drifted and found better suited friend groups. I will forever hold these memories because he did have a big impact on my life.

I don't know how to go back to normal. I dread school. I dread people. It hurts all the time. Everyone's hurting for different reasons, mine just happens to be cold nostalgia. Either way, a teenager is dead in this cruel world and it's going to take some time to smile again.

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I was bawling the whole time I wrote this, but I needed to. I need to remember this.

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