6TH GRADE

Fresh from Elementary school. Messy hair, head up high for I graduated as Salutatorian. Prepared to make friends and overly energetic as everyone else was. Happiness was overflowing.

7TH GRADE

Late on the first day of school. I come into class and everyone greets me as if they were scared that I wouldn't show up. A new face is in the corner. Slouching and 'sad' looking. No one talked to him for the first week he was there. I went up to him boldly. How's your day? He looked up at me, seemingly surprised that I had talked to him. Uh fine. He spoke softly and looked back down at the ground once more. Do you like the teachers?  I tried to push the conversation further. Uh yeah. He walked away swiftly in the crowd and to the lunchroom. He sat at the bench where me and my friends sit, I didn't really mind though. My friends whispered to me gossip about the new kid.

It seemed as though they didn't want to talk so I eased off of him for a while. A few days later I seen him with the jocks. I was disappointed. I really wanted him to join the circle of not-jocks.

A field trip happened and he wasn't sitting near the jocks. He must've realized the terrorizing pain they inflict on other people just for fun. My friend and I spoke to him. She gained his attention more than me. But. I sat next to him on the ride back home.

A few months have gone by and we're the best of pals. His mood seems incredibly improved.

I learn that his family abuses him. It's been going on since he was young. His parents fight with him while I'm over. I wish I could steal him away.

He goes away to Michigan for the summer. I hope he doesn't stay there for the rest of school.

8TH GRADE

It's the first day of school and I'm eagerly waiting outside of the school. I see him cross the street and I hide behind the gate. Not the greatest hiding spot. I jump on him with a giant hug. The school year keeps on getting better.

Halloween is around the corner. I've dressed as Gaara from Naruto Shippuden for this Halloween. I was planning on going trick-or-treating with the little girls across the street. My uncle and his girlfriend ask if I want to come with them to Chelsea Pier's Bowling Alley Halloween party. I agree. My dad is not so sure that I should go. I finally decide that I'm going to the party. I leave and he doesn't say goodbye.

Throughout the entire night I have an eerie feeling that something terrible is about to happen. We return home after midnight. The front door is open. My uncle walks up the everlong steps that seem to stretch up into a haunted house. I walk into the living room. Our couch is flipped. There's splintered wood all over the floor. I see my dad sleeping on a milk case behind the door in the dark. I close the door. My heart is racing. My uncle goes to the livingroom and looks inside. He sternly says Go into your room. My room is next to the living room. I cover my ears so as not to hear the screaming that follows. I pull my covers over my head. I feel tears falling out of my eyes. I hear the living room door open. Next is mine. Grab a pillow and a teddy bear. We're leaving. I'm hyperventilating. We reach the stairs. My dad comes out from the living room to stop us. His words are slurred together. Wherdya thinkyarh goain. I look up at him. He's looking directly at me. I can't think of anything to say. More tears pour out of my eyes. He calls me a bastard, , . My uncle rushes me out the door. He tells his girlfriend and I to go to his car. We go down the street and wait for my uncle. He comes out and it felt like we were sprinting to the car. The trees were dead. The neighborhood was silent. The wind didn't howl. No cars dared to go by. We reached his car. I cried all the way to his girlfriend's house.

I returned back to my father four days after the incident. It felt longer. When I came back into the house, everything was neat. Everything seemed normal. I looked at my dad's face, ran and hugged him tightly. He told me You betrayed me. I wanted you to stay. How could you go with him. My tears ran down silently and I apologized deeply. I looked back up at his black eye, slightly crusted with blood. I tried to forget. Forget what had happened. To forget that I had left my father for my rotten uncle. I still can't live it down.

Around December, my father still hasn't got a job. We decided that it'd be best to move back home with our other relatives. I say goodbye to my best friend. I couldn't imagine a life without him. What am I supposed to do? I tell the little girls across the street that I'm leaving and we were to have dinner together on my last night. Yet again, I have deserted those that I love. I tell them goodbye in the morning. My heart filled with guilt. What have I done? I'll never see them again. My uncle is driving the car. My dad sits in the passenger's seat. I'm stuck with the crowded backseat. It's a long uncomfortable ride back home.

We arrive and unpack everything into my aunt's storage shed. I gained several pounds from eating so much rich foods that my aunt makes. I start school right away at this population of 50 town. I look around. They all seem the same. Farmers everywhere. I don't understand their language of tractors or what the difference between a pickup truck and truck is. I don't fit in with the guys. I don't fit in with anyone. I make two friends from just speaking randomly. I feel like a fat er who has nothing to do with any of these narrow-minded farmers. I want to go back to New York.

I finished 8th grade and I haven't spoken to anyone since I've left.

 

 

This is the beginning of my depressing life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First in-depth look of a crumbling life that I've made thus far.
Vulgar language is used throughout the entire story.
Story is partially based upon true life events that I've experienced.
Thanks for stopping by my story! Much appreciated.
Enjoy the rest of the story.