starreader13
03-20-2006, 05:10 PM
A friend wrote this, its just a bit of a really awesome piece of literature. Please tell me what you think of it and any suggestions would be nice too, i'll pass them along....
It was a pain that wouldn’t end. It had nowhere to go so it just followed me around. The tremor in my lip, the weakness in my gut, the falter in my step, it haunted me. The ache hunted me down where ever I was, whatever I was doing; it would engulf me.
We lasted like that for a month, thirty-eight days, actually. I was not too shocked when I heard the screech, the thud. Bone grinding, heart chilling as those sounds were, the sight was grimmer still. It was Mason. He was the first to yield.
Hands outstretched perpendicular to his body; Mason stepped in front of a car and closed his eyes. When he fell, he was a cross on the ground; it was his last joke for X-Var to laugh at. And we laughed with tears in our eyes. Without saying anything to each other, all seven of us came to school the next few days dressed totally in black from head to toe.
A moment of silence was given in honor of this tragic ‘accident.’ What right did they have to cry for this boy they shunned and never truly knew? The boy they pushed to his doom. These thoughts collided with one another until they formed one malicious notion. I was filled with fire and pain; the latter both doused and fueled my anger. The silence ended, I sniffled and looked over at Michelle, my eyes hard as ice. “Yeah, you’re a real hero.” I said quietly, just for her.
A week later Cassie cracked under the pressure. All the stress and agony finally pushed her over her limits and beyond. She took ten Vicaden to relieve the pounding headache that must have overwhelmed her as it overwhelmed me. It stopped her pain, but only added to mine. Drug overdose: another accident. I went to her house to give my condolences and found her diary. The last entry was tear streaked in hasty writing.
If you read this, I won’t be alive. But I wasn’t alive this past month either. Don’t cry for me. I cry for you. I died with X-Var. It just took my mind longer to catch up with my soul. I swear to you that I’m happier here than I was. Cuz right now, life sucks, and I hate it. I refuse to live in a place so corrupted and blind… I just can’t take it anymore. This is my last, final decision. I’ll meet you in Heaven or Hell…
Though my eyes see and yours deceive, I will not laugh at you
Though you are blind and I enlightened, I will not laugh at you
Though you are ignorant to all you see, I will never laugh at you
But will you do the same for me?
What a world
~Cassie~
Kevin drifted through the halls like a ghost. Mourning and heartache made up his personality. He thinned out; hollow as his heart. His eyes were the saddest aspect; the same eyes that laughed at everything, held no emotion anymore, just bleak emptiness. Their blue faded to a neutral gray. Imprinted by despondency, tragedy. He had lived too much. A look from him was enough to freeze my heart in grief, sympathy, and caring. I saw the signs; I tried to stop the inevitable, knowing the result.
“Kevin…” I tapped his shoulder gently and he shuddered.
“Angelica… we aren’t allowed.” He looked down; I feared he would break down.
“I know. It stinks. But they’ll see, it’ll change, I have faith in people. They’ll-”
“You don’t believe that, and neither do I. It’s too late. The damage is done, the scars made. I can’t be the same person again. I won’t.” His chin shuddered and he looked away.
“I know how you feel. Truly. X-Var is and will always be…my family.” I embraced him as a brother and a friend, as Kevin; the boy I had only begun to really know after so many years of misjudgments.
The next day he drowned. His mother found him floating face down in the turquoise pool. I couldn’t pretend to be surprised. My eyes were tired of crying and I felt soon would dry out completely, but the salty trickle came after the numbness wore off. Dia burst out sobbing and I glared at her pathetic form. She killed him; I held no compassion for murderers. Kevin was victim to yet another tragic accident.
Terrance was never one for subtlety. With each day it became apparent that he was falling fast. I recognized his silent depression and anger. There was no nonchalant laugh and carefree smile; the boy walking through the halls with Terrance’s face was gaunt and silent. I intercepted him in the hall one day.
“Terrance. How are you?” It was lame, but I missed his smile and his humor. I needed some one who understood and I knew he would.
“Boxed in.” He sighed. “It couldn’t last, Ange. I knew, I knew from the start it couldn’t last…it’s just…it’s right that we should end together. It is. We are one. And now we leave as one.” He walk away, I couldn’t find words to stop him. Terrance never ceased to astound me some times with his own unique perception.
It was his wry sense of humor that drove him to the classic, long joked about razor. The sharp blade sliced easily through skin. Bringing the end closer with each stroke. Alone in his room he slit an X on his wrist and died laughing in spite of the pain so that the body he left behind portrayed a silly ironic grin. The kind of grin in life he’d shown when cracking a particularly harsh or perverted joke, a smile I knew well from the hours spent in his company. But if you looked, you would see the faint trail of hard cried tears running down his cheeks, hidden by the wide, grinning face.
Five days later it stormed. Drops of water pounding down on homes and houses, on friends and family, lightning illuminating its path and defined thunder, loud and threatening, warning those below. The world was crying. Such a shame; that two with such a bright future together, smart and athletic combined, should be driving under these dangerous conditions. It was a terrible accident, a calamity. Emily and Shawn must have hit a puddle going around that turn. They must have lost control and ended up where police found them, car flipped over just off the roadside, necks broken. It was that horrible storm, certainly, water everywhere, it blinded their view. Though there weren’t any skid marks.
I never believed their parents’ story. Shawn and Emily talked, and ultimately decided what they both wanted: death. Perhaps it was Emily’s thought to let their parents believe it was an accident. Shawn drove at break neck speed in the rain. They held hands the entire time.
Trish was always one to laugh quickly and act craziest. When that natural energy faded, it was instinctive for her to try to recover it. She needed some way to forget the pain, forget everything. Emily and Cassie had commented jokingly many times about her perpetual drunken state. Trish was never good with limits, rules, or boundaries. She inhaled too much, and in her fuzzy state of consciousness she drank too much. She didn’t know what she was doing, of course, a simple mistake of youth. Experimentation that led to a coma and that to death. But Trish hadn’t known these things would be her demise, it was just a big mishap. A sorry mistake of a confused girl, how could she have known she was tampering with the lethal? Trish was a victim of circumstance, unknowing.
But…there was a scrawled note next to her hand, probably written in some kind of daze. What could she have possibly meant? What was going through her head? This message must have meant some thing to her, but what? The handwriting was barely legible. It read simply: No one is perfect: hypocrisy is in our blood.
I felt in a never-ending ocean of mourning, waves of grief washing over me. Tears never began and never stopped, but flowed together. The pain would spark and dull, and then spark again. I knew it would eventually consume me entirely. Each lost friend slipped me farther into the hole I dug myself into. My eyes were always red, and there was no one there.
I looked into my life and saw great happiness, which led to great sorrow. Everything comes at a price. It may not be proportionate this time, but who can judge unbiased? I looked back and knew I would give anything to relive the good times, because the memories weren’t enough anymore. And I knew it was worth the awful price we paid. I knew this was my fate.
I looked down at those who knew so little. I wondered what they would think, and realized with utter certainty and some surprise that I didn’t care. Everything that mattered in my life was gone. Let them say what they will. That ‘quiet girl’ won’t be there to hear. My family would hurt but they must understand. After everything that’s happened.
As dry as I thought my eyes must have been by then a tear managed to slide out. I felt it work its way slowly. I felt everything. The wind that blew the trees, the ground that no longer felt stable beneath me, and that tear, that burned my flushed cheeks. Somewhere a butterfly fluttered and gave a small child something to smile about. And maybe somewhere some little girl felt embarrassed that she was so smart. Somewhere people laughed as they found unexpected friends. Somewhere Adam was talking and laughing, maybe finding friends. Somewhere people were happy and life was perfect.
The thought loosened all doubts. I let go, finally, of everything that weighed me down, and I flew. The air rushed all around me. There was no up or down, just wind. And at that moment everything in the world clarified. I could see everything; I could forgive everything; I could forget. My eyes closed as the impact came ever nearer, I thought distantly that I would finally know what was after death. The back of my mind laughed openly at my last thoughts: May God save your souls; I’ll see you in hell.
It was a pain that wouldn’t end. It had nowhere to go so it just followed me around. The tremor in my lip, the weakness in my gut, the falter in my step, it haunted me. The ache hunted me down where ever I was, whatever I was doing; it would engulf me.
We lasted like that for a month, thirty-eight days, actually. I was not too shocked when I heard the screech, the thud. Bone grinding, heart chilling as those sounds were, the sight was grimmer still. It was Mason. He was the first to yield.
Hands outstretched perpendicular to his body; Mason stepped in front of a car and closed his eyes. When he fell, he was a cross on the ground; it was his last joke for X-Var to laugh at. And we laughed with tears in our eyes. Without saying anything to each other, all seven of us came to school the next few days dressed totally in black from head to toe.
A moment of silence was given in honor of this tragic ‘accident.’ What right did they have to cry for this boy they shunned and never truly knew? The boy they pushed to his doom. These thoughts collided with one another until they formed one malicious notion. I was filled with fire and pain; the latter both doused and fueled my anger. The silence ended, I sniffled and looked over at Michelle, my eyes hard as ice. “Yeah, you’re a real hero.” I said quietly, just for her.
A week later Cassie cracked under the pressure. All the stress and agony finally pushed her over her limits and beyond. She took ten Vicaden to relieve the pounding headache that must have overwhelmed her as it overwhelmed me. It stopped her pain, but only added to mine. Drug overdose: another accident. I went to her house to give my condolences and found her diary. The last entry was tear streaked in hasty writing.
If you read this, I won’t be alive. But I wasn’t alive this past month either. Don’t cry for me. I cry for you. I died with X-Var. It just took my mind longer to catch up with my soul. I swear to you that I’m happier here than I was. Cuz right now, life sucks, and I hate it. I refuse to live in a place so corrupted and blind… I just can’t take it anymore. This is my last, final decision. I’ll meet you in Heaven or Hell…
Though my eyes see and yours deceive, I will not laugh at you
Though you are blind and I enlightened, I will not laugh at you
Though you are ignorant to all you see, I will never laugh at you
But will you do the same for me?
What a world
~Cassie~
Kevin drifted through the halls like a ghost. Mourning and heartache made up his personality. He thinned out; hollow as his heart. His eyes were the saddest aspect; the same eyes that laughed at everything, held no emotion anymore, just bleak emptiness. Their blue faded to a neutral gray. Imprinted by despondency, tragedy. He had lived too much. A look from him was enough to freeze my heart in grief, sympathy, and caring. I saw the signs; I tried to stop the inevitable, knowing the result.
“Kevin…” I tapped his shoulder gently and he shuddered.
“Angelica… we aren’t allowed.” He looked down; I feared he would break down.
“I know. It stinks. But they’ll see, it’ll change, I have faith in people. They’ll-”
“You don’t believe that, and neither do I. It’s too late. The damage is done, the scars made. I can’t be the same person again. I won’t.” His chin shuddered and he looked away.
“I know how you feel. Truly. X-Var is and will always be…my family.” I embraced him as a brother and a friend, as Kevin; the boy I had only begun to really know after so many years of misjudgments.
The next day he drowned. His mother found him floating face down in the turquoise pool. I couldn’t pretend to be surprised. My eyes were tired of crying and I felt soon would dry out completely, but the salty trickle came after the numbness wore off. Dia burst out sobbing and I glared at her pathetic form. She killed him; I held no compassion for murderers. Kevin was victim to yet another tragic accident.
Terrance was never one for subtlety. With each day it became apparent that he was falling fast. I recognized his silent depression and anger. There was no nonchalant laugh and carefree smile; the boy walking through the halls with Terrance’s face was gaunt and silent. I intercepted him in the hall one day.
“Terrance. How are you?” It was lame, but I missed his smile and his humor. I needed some one who understood and I knew he would.
“Boxed in.” He sighed. “It couldn’t last, Ange. I knew, I knew from the start it couldn’t last…it’s just…it’s right that we should end together. It is. We are one. And now we leave as one.” He walk away, I couldn’t find words to stop him. Terrance never ceased to astound me some times with his own unique perception.
It was his wry sense of humor that drove him to the classic, long joked about razor. The sharp blade sliced easily through skin. Bringing the end closer with each stroke. Alone in his room he slit an X on his wrist and died laughing in spite of the pain so that the body he left behind portrayed a silly ironic grin. The kind of grin in life he’d shown when cracking a particularly harsh or perverted joke, a smile I knew well from the hours spent in his company. But if you looked, you would see the faint trail of hard cried tears running down his cheeks, hidden by the wide, grinning face.
Five days later it stormed. Drops of water pounding down on homes and houses, on friends and family, lightning illuminating its path and defined thunder, loud and threatening, warning those below. The world was crying. Such a shame; that two with such a bright future together, smart and athletic combined, should be driving under these dangerous conditions. It was a terrible accident, a calamity. Emily and Shawn must have hit a puddle going around that turn. They must have lost control and ended up where police found them, car flipped over just off the roadside, necks broken. It was that horrible storm, certainly, water everywhere, it blinded their view. Though there weren’t any skid marks.
I never believed their parents’ story. Shawn and Emily talked, and ultimately decided what they both wanted: death. Perhaps it was Emily’s thought to let their parents believe it was an accident. Shawn drove at break neck speed in the rain. They held hands the entire time.
Trish was always one to laugh quickly and act craziest. When that natural energy faded, it was instinctive for her to try to recover it. She needed some way to forget the pain, forget everything. Emily and Cassie had commented jokingly many times about her perpetual drunken state. Trish was never good with limits, rules, or boundaries. She inhaled too much, and in her fuzzy state of consciousness she drank too much. She didn’t know what she was doing, of course, a simple mistake of youth. Experimentation that led to a coma and that to death. But Trish hadn’t known these things would be her demise, it was just a big mishap. A sorry mistake of a confused girl, how could she have known she was tampering with the lethal? Trish was a victim of circumstance, unknowing.
But…there was a scrawled note next to her hand, probably written in some kind of daze. What could she have possibly meant? What was going through her head? This message must have meant some thing to her, but what? The handwriting was barely legible. It read simply: No one is perfect: hypocrisy is in our blood.
I felt in a never-ending ocean of mourning, waves of grief washing over me. Tears never began and never stopped, but flowed together. The pain would spark and dull, and then spark again. I knew it would eventually consume me entirely. Each lost friend slipped me farther into the hole I dug myself into. My eyes were always red, and there was no one there.
I looked into my life and saw great happiness, which led to great sorrow. Everything comes at a price. It may not be proportionate this time, but who can judge unbiased? I looked back and knew I would give anything to relive the good times, because the memories weren’t enough anymore. And I knew it was worth the awful price we paid. I knew this was my fate.
I looked down at those who knew so little. I wondered what they would think, and realized with utter certainty and some surprise that I didn’t care. Everything that mattered in my life was gone. Let them say what they will. That ‘quiet girl’ won’t be there to hear. My family would hurt but they must understand. After everything that’s happened.
As dry as I thought my eyes must have been by then a tear managed to slide out. I felt it work its way slowly. I felt everything. The wind that blew the trees, the ground that no longer felt stable beneath me, and that tear, that burned my flushed cheeks. Somewhere a butterfly fluttered and gave a small child something to smile about. And maybe somewhere some little girl felt embarrassed that she was so smart. Somewhere people laughed as they found unexpected friends. Somewhere Adam was talking and laughing, maybe finding friends. Somewhere people were happy and life was perfect.
The thought loosened all doubts. I let go, finally, of everything that weighed me down, and I flew. The air rushed all around me. There was no up or down, just wind. And at that moment everything in the world clarified. I could see everything; I could forgive everything; I could forget. My eyes closed as the impact came ever nearer, I thought distantly that I would finally know what was after death. The back of my mind laughed openly at my last thoughts: May God save your souls; I’ll see you in hell.