All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
days of the week
Sunday morning, I get up and walk over to your old house. You know the one with the huge, leering Oak tree and ancient rope swing? The one your brother fell off and busted his tail bone? Yeah, I wanted to try it out again, but since you weren’t there I was too scared to go very high. Instead, I sat in the tire and spun around until I was dizzy. I used to hate being dizzy, but now it’s the only thing I feel.
And on Monday, I wake up twenty minutes late for school, even though my alarm goes off. I guess I don’t hear it. I have dreams every night. They are memories, my best ones of you of course.
Tuesday, I stop by your locker and tape a note too it. By now the notes have filled up the next two lockers but the kids there don’t seem to mind. I think they’ve gone off to college now. Would you have still wanted to be an economist, I wonder? I always told you that was too boring for someone like you, with such a free spirit. It was funny because all you said was that it paid well, but really you didn’t have that kind of plan for the future.
Wednesday night, I open the window of my room and climb out and sit on the roof. I try to draw, but I’m not as good as you, and I probably won’t ever be. What I really did though was stare at the stars. You remember I wanted to be an astronomer right? Well not anymore. I hate the stars. I hate everything.
Thursday afternoon, I stop by the place you used to work. Even though the other employees give me weird stares, they let me stay. All the cheap junk you have in there I still won’t buy, but I look. I touch.
Friday, I go visit you. Our friends don’t visit you anymore. It’s nearly been a year. They don’t talk about it, they don’t see me. I only see you. You know I still don’t understand why you did it. I thought you were happy. Was it my fault?
On Saturday I find this in your room…
hey,
i know you’ll hate me for this, but you just don’t understand how i feel. how sad, all the time. i wanted to leave you something, but i don’t have anything. i’d leave you my heart but i don’t know if you’d want it anymore. i took a lot of pills. three bottles. i know it was stupid, but i can’t figure why i did it and i couldn’t stop. if i somehow survive i won’t do this again, but it’s for the best. the only thing i’ll miss is you. don’t miss me much. i guess i’ll see you around…
And today, I undressed on the pink, fuzzy rug in my bathroom, clinging to your note. I stepped into the water…and yeah, I guess I’ll see you around…
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.