I can see someone looking down at the words I’m writing. It’s amusing how someone, who is so unrealistic, can drown you and then hand you a life jacket. Her cheeks are speckled with freckles and her sea green eyes are shaped like almonds; her skin is a pale shade of caramel.

The locks of hair on her head remind me of the time I got my haircut and all of the dead ends fell on the apron I wore. My hair was really long then, and the length of the dead ends was about 35 centimeters. Yeah, long.

I can feel her reading my journal as I slowly write about my day.

Monday, October 3rd, 2014
7: 15 am- Sun coming up slowly...
They think I have a perfect life. It is so dumb. I am getting ready for school and I slide my shirt over my head. I can feel the sun shining through the walls.


A knock hits my door. Then it opens. The face I see disgusts me; it is my father. I hate him with every atom of my being.

“What?” I ask bitterly.

He looks at me with a nasty face. He leaves, no words escaping his mouth, closing the door behind him. I snarl to myself.

I get my backpack and leave the house.
~~♌~~

As I walk up the steps to the building, I think about my mother. I loved her so much, how could my dad not give a damn? I hate him so much.

I am surrounded by them; the crowd gathers and everyone is drooling over me. I slap on a charming smile. The girls melt.
I look towards the doors. Maria’s bleached hair is flowing in the wind. She watches me. I smile at her and start walking towards her.
Someone grabs me by the arm and drags me away. They pull me to the corner of the street. He offers me a cigarette. I take it, knowing it’s my only chance before school starts. As I puff on the cigarette, he asks me what’s up.
“Not much, just standing here smoking with you.” I say, blowing smoke in rings.
“True s***.” He chuckles.
~~♌~~
I walk into first period late. My pass is prepared in my hand from the office. The teacher holds out his hand for it and I give it to him.
I chew on a piece of mint gum, hoping to hide the smoky smell. Aaron, the guy who gave me the cig, shows up a few minutes later, also chewing mint gum.
My mind goes to my mom and how she died.

Monday, October 3rd, 2014
7:45 am- Sun all the way up.

She had been sick for no longer than a week and she was already dying. She had pneumonia. She said she was in a lot of pain, so I took her to the hospital. Constantly coughing. Dad lay passed out on the couch, drunk. Again... that bastard. But anyway, when we got there, she was put into a wheelchair and wheeled to the emergency room.
When we got into a room, she had already been very tired and weak. They did lots of tests and told us it was, indeed, pneumonia. She had at least a week or two. I sat by her bed for the time it took, and dad never called. Or came there. I cried and cried, until she said that it was making it worse. I couldn’t bear to lose my mom, she was all I cared about.


I stare at the loose leaf paper. Suddenly, I crumple it up and a few people look at me. I stand up and leave the classroom. The teacher just watches me.

I walk to the bathroom. I go into a stall and sit on the seat of the toilet. I burry my face in my hands for a moment. I stand up and punch the stall repeatedly. My knuckles bruise up. The bell rings as I leave, and kids flood the hallway. Someone pushes past me, running like they’re going to die if they don’t. Freak.

I head to second period. I can’t wait until lunch.
~~♌~~

The second I get into the lunchroom, there is a fight. A guy is beating up this other guy and everyone stands on the tables and seats to see. I walk up to the crowd and plow my way through it.

As I emerge from the group, I see Aaron. He is the one being beaten up.

“Hey!” I shout. The guy who was hitting Aaron in the face looks up. “Get out of here.”

“Who the hell are you, tough guy?” He asks, smirking.

“His friend. Now let him go.” I get closer as I talk and he drops Aaron on the cafeteria floor. He shoves me.

“Let’s play a game, kid.” He says. I shove him back, harder than he pushed me. “Gettin’ a little dicey, huh?”

“Get lost,” I tell him. “This isn’t your school.” By the time I’m done saying it, a dean has him pulled out of the group. I help Aaron up, and he winces a little.

“Thanks man.” He says to me.

I shake my head. “Don’t thank me, I’m just sticking up for a friend.” He smiles. His teeth have blood on them, and his lip is split. “Want me to take you to the nurse?”

“Nah, I’m fine, man.” He smiles wider. I force a smile.

“Were you in the fight?” Someone asks Aaron. I realize it is the dean talking and don’t look at him.

Aaron nods.

“Come with me,” He says. “And you, son, follow us.” I look at him now. I point to myself. He nods.

We leave the cafeteria. I assume we are going to the Vice Principal's office. And when we arrive, I am told to wait outside. I sit on the chair outside the office.

Aaron emerges from the office first. I ask him what happened. He tells me that he has four day ISS.

“Ouch,” I say. “Not as easy as I thought they would be on you.”

“Right.” He chuckles in disbelief. Then the other guy comes out. He looks at me and Aaron and soundlessly sits a chair away from Aaron.

“Atticus?” The VP asks. I look up at him. He motions for me to follow him into the office. I do so, and he closes the door behind him.

“You can have a seat if you want, but it won’t take too long.” He says, sitting himself in his chair. I remain standing, silent. “I understand you were also involved in the fight. Is that correct?”

“Well, sorta, I stopped it.” I tell him.

He nods slowly, intently. “I see. Did you do it for Aaron?” I nod. “Okay. And Atticus, son, you know that you will get the same punishment as Aaron and Alex did because you pushed Alex, yes?”

“Excuse me? I stopped the fight… I don’t think I should get suspended.” The VP’s voice stays steady, gentle.

“Would you like me to call your parents up and we can discuss this together?” He asks.

“You do that, sir, but my dad won’t pick up that phone. I bet you a million dollars that he is drunk off his ass right now.” I say in anger.

“Atticus, watch your language, please.” He says.

“Go ahead. Call him. See if I care.” I walk out of the office and Aaron stands up. He follows me out the front doors.

When I get to my car, Aaron asks me what happened. I tell him about it, and he just shakes his head. We get in and I take him home.
~~♌~~

The days couldn’t pass any slower. It’s the weekend, Saturday, and I find myself spending my time writing in my journal more than I ever have. I’m not sure why, but I feel like I’m not only helping myself, I’m helping someone else. Someone who is watching me. Someone who probably understands me more than I understand myself.

My dad is yelling on the phone with someone about rehab; he doesn’t want to go, he’s not ready. But it’s what he needs.

I call Aaron. He answers right away. “Hello?”

“Hey man, you busy?”

“Nope. Why?” He asks.

“I’m coming over.” I say.

“Okay, see ya soon.” He hangs up. I get off of my bed and slip my sweatshirt on. I head down the stairs, ignoring my dads shouting. I slip out the door without exchanging words with him.
~~♌~~

Aaron has been a good friend to me for a while. Since 5th grade, actually. I can trust him with my life. When we were in 8th grade, we got into a brawl with each other, over a girl. It actually brought us closer. Since then, we have laughed together, cried together, and smoked together.

When I get to Aaron’s house, he is already in the driveway. He stands there, smoking a cigarette. I get out of my car and he smiles. “Hey kid.” Although Aaron is younger than me, he calls me kid. To this day, I don’t know why. He just does.

“Hey, man.” I say.

“What’s up?” He asks, offering me a cig. I take it.

“My dad’s screaming his ass off about stupid s***,” I light up. “So, basically, the same thing as yesterday.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” I look at him, blowing smoke out of my lungs.

“Does he ever hit you?” His face is calm, cool, but his eyes suggest that he is scared and worried.

“No, never. Why?” I ask, suddenly serious.

“I was just wondering. You’d tell me if he was, wouldn’t you?” He blinks.

“Well, yeah. You’re my best friend.” I tell him. He looks down at the ground. I hope I’m hallucinating because he has started to cry. I have only saw Aaron cry once, and that was when his grandmother died. Something is seriously wrong. “What… why are you crying?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just opens the front door, throwing his cig down. He goes inside. I put out my cigarette, stepping on his also. I follow him inside. As I enter, I see him going upstairs.

“Aaron, wait up, man.” I call out. I hear his door’s beads hit the back of the door. I get up the steps and open his door. He sits on his bed, a gun in his hands. “Woah. What are you doing?” I get closer to him, slowly.

“I don’t deserve this life. It’s not--” He sobs. “It’s not for me…”

“Aaron…” I sit next to him. “What happened to you?” He was just standing outside, smoking with me. I don’t understand this.

“I saw Taylor kissing another guy.” He whispers. Taylor is his girlfriend. She doesn’t treat him well. At all. She hits him, and he only told me.

“Ah man… I’m sorry.” I say quietly.

“I just… I’m so mad! How could she do this?!” He screams. He holds the gun to his head.

“Aaron, listen to me. She isn’t worth your life.” Is this the best I can do? This is my best friend’s life on the line, here. “She didn’t love you, yeah, and she got another boyfriend, but it isn’t worth wasting a good life over. You have your whole life ahead of you. And lots of people love you. Please.”

“Atticus, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t love anyone except her.” He says, the gun-- thank God-- slowly lowering.

“Please, stay here with me. I know this will sound cheesy as hell, but I need you here.” I say. I hold my hand out for the gun.

“I’m so sorry man… I don’t know what I was thinking.” He drops the gun into my hand. I open the bullet chamber, take out the bullets and hand it back to him.

“You don’t need to die just because she doesn’t love you anymore.” I say softly.

“I know…” He wipes his tears away. “I’m just stupid.”

I hug him, although we rarely touch one another. “I know. That’s okay.” He hugs me back and laughs.

“Atticus?” He asks, pulling away.

“Yeah.” I look at him.

“I have to tell you something. Something I’ve never told anyone before.” He smiles.

“Okay, I’ll listen.” He takes the biggest breath that I’ve ever saw someone take.

“Well, there’s not really a good way to put this, at least so it’ll be easy to take in, but… I think I’m gay.” I have to say, I’m pretty damn shocked. At first I don’t say anything.

“Wow. Really?” I finally manage.

“Yes.” He nods.

“Wow… I mean, that’s fine, you’re still my friend. But man, I didn’t expect that…”

He just sits there, looking at the floor. For a while, we don’t talk, and by the time I want to say something, he gets off the bed. I watch him set the gun on his dresser. Then he finds a knife, hands it to me. “Take this away from me. I’m going to change.” I look at him questioningly.

“I can’t be this person anymore. I don’t want to be.” He pulls his long sleeve up to his elbow. I see red lines, white lines and dried blood. I gasp involuntarily. “Sorry.” He whispers.

“Aaron… how long have you been cutting?” I ask him.

“Since she first hit me.” He lowers his head and presses his lips together.

“Dude… why didn’t you tell me?” I’m hurt, now. “I mean, I understand that you might think that I’m going to just up and leave you, but man, I’m not going to.”

“I know… I’m sorry.”

“I can get you help.” I offer.

“You don’t have any money.”

“I have emergency money. I’ll get you help, Aaron.” He shakes his head.

“I know it’s cliché to say this, but I don’t need help. I will do this on my own. I can. So, please, Atticus, don’t worry about me.”

“Dude,” I start to tear up a little. “Of course I’m going to worry about you. You’re my best friend.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” He sets his hand on my shoulder carefully.

“Okay,” I say, defeated. “But if you ever need help, and I mean ever, you come to me, okay?”

“I will.” He promises.

“Good.” I say.