Watching my best friend zoom down the school corridor her hands out like an aeroplane without a care in the world, it was as if all her problems had dropped off the edge of the earth and nothing seemed to matter. She was free and ready to soar. It was amazing to watch her problems drift away, I’ve never seen her so happy. I’m jealous. Despite her curves and tall stocky build, she was beautiful. I think I’m the only one that see’s the beauty in her, it’s mostly in her personality and if you look into her bottomless ocean eyes you’ll see the real Tiffani. You don’t see the tall stocky thirteen year old, you see the pretty and insecure writer that she suppresses so much.
I don’t know what it is but I’ve always been able to see past the front so many put up. Tiffy isn’t the only one that does it, I see it all the time. So many girls are so insecure of themselves because of the image celebrity’s and other girls paint. It’s as if their expected to have their body perfect and their personality perfect. That’s what’s wrong with society these days; perfection is all that seems to matter.
The days we wish we could take back. The days we wish we could relive. And the days where you play a montage over and over in your mind. These are the days that we appreciate and hold onto most. We hold onto the bad times because without them we wouldn’t have the good times. And without the montages of the days we wish we could relive we’d have nothing to smile giddily about. I think they complete us.
Despite my own problems, I always concentrate on other peoples. I like making people happy, especially my friends. They all seem to have something to worry about. Tiffani has money problems; I don’t even think her family has enough money to hire a movie. I don’t know what it feels like to have so little money but I do know how left out she feels, not being able to do the things every other teenager can do. She’s two years younger than me but I’ve known her for longer than forever, well it feels that way. Most of her friends offer her to pay for the movies or bus and train ticket so they can go into the city. I don’t, whenever you mention money her face just drops, I honestly can’t explain the expression she gives you, it’s worse than a young child’s puppy dog pout.
Megan, struggles with her weight. She’s bigger than a lot of girls we know and feels so self-conscious about it. I can understand why she is, the snotty nose girls in our mainstream English class laugh and judge her when she answers a question. Personally, I think their jealous, Megan is a whole lot smarter than they are. I hate bullies with a passion, nothing is worse than having some random point out your flaws and laugh at you because they know that your better than you.
That brings me to Lukas, the only friend I have that knows everything about me. In ninth grade I noticed him changing towards me, it was little things at first. The way he would talk to me and other boys, the way he would hug me. Over time he came to me with a look I had never seen on his face before, dread. Before I could as what was wrong he was in my arms crying. Even though my shoulder was drenched with his salty tears, it was waterproof for him, my brother. Through soft babbles and rambling about Jonah, Lukas had somehow managed to get out the words ‘I think I’m gay.’ Having never been in this situation, I was stumped. Usually I was good at giving advice, ide never lie to anyone even if it would hurt them. The wind had picked up a lot and the bell for class had already gone so most of the students had gone off to their classes, some were still mingling. To Lukas, it seem like a horror movie or a nightmare. His parents were devout Christians and believed that if you were gay, you were worse than the devil himself.
I’m never really liked Mr and Mrs Jones, I being someone who likes pretty much everybody. There was just something about them that I hated, I never really knew what it was until Lukas came out of the closet. His parents still don’t know, only his close friends do. Ide hate it if I had to keep a secret like that. Having to mask the real you just to impress your parents. If you ever got the chance to look at Lukas you wouldn’t even know that his gay, he isn’t a stereotypical gay.
All of this leads up to my death. It had nothing to do with my friends problems, of course. Although I hate to say it, it had something to do with them. I’m a people fixer, I fix other peoples problem. Bring their moods up, make them smile and forget their problems. And because of this, no one could see how shattered and broken I was. Bottling to much inside of me I had taken its toll. I could no longer handle the pain. I wanted to scream and shout and the top of my lungs. I wanted to fall to my knees and drown in my tears. I wanted to close my eyes and never wake up. I wanted it all to end.
And so it did. My name is Troy and on my fifteenth birthday I took my own life. My body was found at my parent’s grave two weeks later. Nobody but Lukas noticed that I was gone.
I don’t know what it is but I’ve always been able to see past the front so many put up. Tiffy isn’t the only one that does it, I see it all the time. So many girls are so insecure of themselves because of the image celebrity’s and other girls paint. It’s as if their expected to have their body perfect and their personality perfect. That’s what’s wrong with society these days; perfection is all that seems to matter.
The days we wish we could take back. The days we wish we could relive. And the days where you play a montage over and over in your mind. These are the days that we appreciate and hold onto most. We hold onto the bad times because without them we wouldn’t have the good times. And without the montages of the days we wish we could relive we’d have nothing to smile giddily about. I think they complete us.
Despite my own problems, I always concentrate on other peoples. I like making people happy, especially my friends. They all seem to have something to worry about. Tiffani has money problems; I don’t even think her family has enough money to hire a movie. I don’t know what it feels like to have so little money but I do know how left out she feels, not being able to do the things every other teenager can do. She’s two years younger than me but I’ve known her for longer than forever, well it feels that way. Most of her friends offer her to pay for the movies or bus and train ticket so they can go into the city. I don’t, whenever you mention money her face just drops, I honestly can’t explain the expression she gives you, it’s worse than a young child’s puppy dog pout.
Megan, struggles with her weight. She’s bigger than a lot of girls we know and feels so self-conscious about it. I can understand why she is, the snotty nose girls in our mainstream English class laugh and judge her when she answers a question. Personally, I think their jealous, Megan is a whole lot smarter than they are. I hate bullies with a passion, nothing is worse than having some random point out your flaws and laugh at you because they know that your better than you.
That brings me to Lukas, the only friend I have that knows everything about me. In ninth grade I noticed him changing towards me, it was little things at first. The way he would talk to me and other boys, the way he would hug me. Over time he came to me with a look I had never seen on his face before, dread. Before I could as what was wrong he was in my arms crying. Even though my shoulder was drenched with his salty tears, it was waterproof for him, my brother. Through soft babbles and rambling about Jonah, Lukas had somehow managed to get out the words ‘I think I’m gay.’ Having never been in this situation, I was stumped. Usually I was good at giving advice, ide never lie to anyone even if it would hurt them. The wind had picked up a lot and the bell for class had already gone so most of the students had gone off to their classes, some were still mingling. To Lukas, it seem like a horror movie or a nightmare. His parents were devout Christians and believed that if you were gay, you were worse than the devil himself.
I’m never really liked Mr and Mrs Jones, I being someone who likes pretty much everybody. There was just something about them that I hated, I never really knew what it was until Lukas came out of the closet. His parents still don’t know, only his close friends do. Ide hate it if I had to keep a secret like that. Having to mask the real you just to impress your parents. If you ever got the chance to look at Lukas you wouldn’t even know that his gay, he isn’t a stereotypical gay.
All of this leads up to my death. It had nothing to do with my friends problems, of course. Although I hate to say it, it had something to do with them. I’m a people fixer, I fix other peoples problem. Bring their moods up, make them smile and forget their problems. And because of this, no one could see how shattered and broken I was. Bottling to much inside of me I had taken its toll. I could no longer handle the pain. I wanted to scream and shout and the top of my lungs. I wanted to fall to my knees and drown in my tears. I wanted to close my eyes and never wake up. I wanted it all to end.
And so it did. My name is Troy and on my fifteenth birthday I took my own life. My body was found at my parent’s grave two weeks later. Nobody but Lukas noticed that I was gone.
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