Saying Goodbye | Teen Ink

Saying Goodbye

May 24, 2013
By ChristinKarr GOLD, Solana Beach, California
ChristinKarr GOLD, Solana Beach, California
16 articles 0 photos 1 comment

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"If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write." Martin Luther


Saying Goodbye

As I sat there and watched the world pass me by I wondered, "Am I like that strange lady that buys the exact same coffee everyday? Or perhaps I'm like the person who runs the same path everyday. Or maybe I'm like that mean old lady that yells at the same boy everyday because his dog scares her cat.." I knew I didn't want to be like them... I wanted to be spontaneous, random, and fun, just fun. With my life, at times that didn't seem possible... You don't know me, I'm Erin. I have some friends, but they're not always the kind of people that I'd like hang around. I'm generally a very positive person, given most of it's in my head, but nonetheless I don't like to hang around negative people. So the the reason I have few friends is because I'm quite picky about who I choose as a friend. Anyways I suppose I should get on with the story. It all started... The day I was forced to say goodbye to my best friend.

I woke in the morning knowing today was the day, the soon to be worst day of my life. My dog Oso, sleeping at my feet. I went through my usually routines, letting Oso out for the bathroom first then I moved on getting ready for school. I left for the bus kissing Oso goodbye, knowing when I came back we had to drive him his new home, because we were moving to the city in an apartment that didn't allow dogs. Mother insisted he leave, I tried everything, begging, pleading with her, but it was hopeless. When she had her mind set in something no one and nothing will get in her way. My mother had ostracized me since then. My father was a humble man, he didn't like to argue with my mother at all. As a result, my mother's choice was always the unanimous one. My father was in the army and currently out on a furlough for a few months to help us move.

Upon arriving at school I got the usual ironical smile from my ex-friend Elle. I was always
very conscientious about it. When we were friends she was constantly bullying other people and I told her to stop, and well you can guess why we're not friends anymore. Was that ever a fiasco! Elle's clique of minions was unscrupulous, just like Elle. I always felt qualm, when I walked by her. Many people considered Elle to be a lunatic, I was not one of those people, although I did see the indignity in her bullying. I was bourgeois, more like the people in the middle, the people that nobody really pays any attention to. The new students were always raving about Elle, but they were in for some downfall.
English was my first period and there was this compulsory essay that we wrote, I got an A as always, I was considered a prodigy, but I did not like being called that, my mother said I had a lot of modesty, maybe I do maybe I don't, I just did my best. But more than fifty percent of the class didn't even do it. They were quite illiterate at times. In fact most of the students at my school were monotonous and insular. I found my English class quite mesmerizing, it was funny watching their faces when they realized it was compulsory.

First period finished, and my friends were stills ostracizing me, just because I messed up that one line, during the play we had done a week ago. The whole audience was in hysterics, when I messed up, it was quite possibly the most humiliating moment of my life. But I still laughed anyway. So my second period was drama, I walked though the giant foyer into the multi-purpose room. The play we were rehearsing was set in the old times, and had characters that always acted nobly, and humbly. There was this one character that was supposed to always be incognito, but the person playing that character was not at all incognito, ever. The rest of school was long and fairly boring for the most part. School was mostly blasé for me, because everything was so easy.

I started walking home instead of taking the bus, my house wasn't too far away, so I just decided to walk. On my way home I walked past a monastery, a stationary store, and a few other little shops. As I arrived at home, I went straight into my chiffonier to get the bone I had bought for Oso. Oso's coat was quite scraggy, but I liked it that way because he liked it that way. My mom was sitting on the sofa, folding laundry, as I walked through the house to my room, she looked very cool and nonchalant, which was exactly the opposite of what I was feeling. The piles of clothes that stood a few feet high looked quite precarious. Although it didn't take much to rile my mom up, she got upset pretty easily. My heart was palpitating at the constant thought of leaving Oso at his new home. The thought of never seeing Oso again was so putrid. Although it was very stark, and was arriving faster than I had expected.

Four o'clock came around very fast, and we all loaded in the car, and drove to Oso's new home. When we arrived the lady invited us inside, she talked forever, she was constantly digressing. She had a young son, no more than six or seven years old, that was very boisterous.
When my mother and the lady were chatting about pointless subjects, my dad pulled me aside and brought me outside. “Are you really alright with giving Oso up?” He asked, I had told him I was alright with it because I didn't want to worry him. Tears began to fill my eyes, when he asked that question. He hugged me, when I answered, quietly. “No.” I said. “I really want to keep him!” I began to sob frantically, he grabbed my shoulders and asked, “Why didn't you tell me?” “I didn't to worry you, and mom already said he absolutely has to go. I already tried to pleading with her, but she wouldn't hear anything of it.” My tears were slowing. “We're going to keep him. Alright?” My tears stopped and a big smile filled my face, I hugged my dad. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said ecstatically. We walked back in the house and my dad told the lady and my mother that we had to keep Oso. Neither of them argued with him, which was rare for my mother. We took Oso home, and that was the end. Oso was mine forever.


The author's comments:
I wrote this story, shortly after we gave away a rescue dog that I fell in love with. This is my tribute to Oso, a fabulous German shepherd.

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