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A story i wrote recently for a fiction writing class. It is a true story. Names changed. |
“Black birds singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly.” This is, or I guess was, his favorite song and now it is my least favorite. It will forever be tainted by this day, and draws me back to that day. The music pounding in my ears as I go to search for him in the gym, still full of hope. I can feel the excitement I had that day, the childlike fantasy holding me captive. I walk through the densely populated groups. I found my friends, but no one had seen or heard from him since it started. I stare at the balloon in my hand, it mocking me with the memories of the boy whose life it represents. I have to close my eyes as the sun reflects off of the green tint, pulling me back in time. I stand there shaking as see my best friend and her boy friend. “He only asked you because he felt sorry for you…” I can still hear John say as my world came crashing around me. The words are still bouncing around in my head as the song plays over Ms. Hallmark’s speakers on the field. We all hold the balloon string, with a note attached to it. This string and card brings me back to my last memory with him. I stare down at the cookie and the white note attached to it. ‘It’s time to forgive him, Ann, its been three years. You have forgiven him in your head, its time to show him’ I thought, pulling the cookie out of my bag. I walked over to him sitting by himself and hand him the cookie, “Merry Christmas!” “Thanks, Merry Christmas to you too,” he says, looking at me for a second and then looking away. ‘Well you tried; maybe this is the beginning of a fresh start? Hopefully.” Man I was way wrong. I still remember his face on that day, the small smile he gave me. It gave me hope, but that was drained a few days ago. Ms. Hallmark’s speakers squealed and it brought me to that day. “All sophomores need to report to the cafeteria after Patriot Vision.” Ms. Jackson stated matter-of-factly as we sat in class. We all stared at each other in wonder. “I really hope this isn’t about that practice ACT, I don’t want to take that,” I said to a friend, not realizing how much I am going to regret this statement. After we get into the cafeteria, one of my friends is sitting in the front crying. This didn’t really faze me because she had a lot of family issues going on so she was upset a lot of the time. We all sat down, talking until my principle came up. He started crying, but he cried over everything. He started to lecture us about being nice to people, that we didn’t know what was going on in their lives. He just kept telling us we were disappointments, he then told us the news. My whole world shattered instantly, wishing this stupid meeting were about the ACT. I would have taken anything other than this. I get jerked back to the present, one of the counselors making the announcement that the count down was going to begin. “5” I don’t think I am ready. “4” This is harder than I thought it was going to be. “3” Why are we doing this again? “2” Is this really helping? “1” I guess this is it. Goodbye… |