Young Writers Society

BLAM! POW! KA-POW! BANG! My Life.

by Justin McLlarky

Today is our one year and eight month anniversary, October 18th 2011. I get on the bus, like any other day, I can’t wait to see her! Those beautiful eyes, soft hair and a smile to die for, all mine! Her kisses give me all I ever wanted, love.

I sit next to her, holding her hand. She daydreams out the foggy window of the smelly, hot bus. I feel my hand and hers start to sweat.

My buddy Noah, sitting to my right is telling me about how he illegally downloaded movies onto his hard drive. I never fully understand what the hell he is talking about, I just shake my head and say “Oh really?”

She lets go of my hand; my attention and eyes focus on her. She got a text message from her mother saying she is to stay after school for basketball practice. I wipe my sweaty hand on my blue jeans. She looks at me, smiles and continues to look out the window. I go to grab her hand, and noticed her hands were resting in her OCS OWLS sweatshirt.

She never talked to me once that day. She walks by me and smiles but never stops for a hug. I know something is up, so I text her in my Global Heritage class. “Hey”, but no reply.

At the end of the day we had Gym together. Instead of going, I sat in the lounge and play with my smashed and broken iPod. I look up at the clock; it reads 2:20 (PM), almost time to go home. I see her; she is standing around talking with her annoying friends. I walk up to see her.

“Hey”

“Hey” She replies, not looking at me.

“Happy anniversary” I say, trying to look her in the eyes.

“Yeah”

“Can we talk, hun? I feel like I screwed up.”

“Well, I actually have to go.. But I’ll text you.”

Her friends drag her away, before I could kiss her goodbye. The bus ride home, I cried thinking about what I could have done.

That night, I texted her, I asked why she was ignoring me all day.

“Hun..” she replies.

“Yeah”

“I think we need to take a break, and explore our options..”

My heart sinks like the Titanic; into a deep, dark abyss. I feel an air bubble in my throat as I hold back my tears. I am weak, and useless. An innocent bystander, as my world is ripped out of my universe.

“Why? What did I do?”

“Nothing, I’m ready for new things.” She replies.

I can hardly read the next text messages; my eyes are drowning in salty tears. A hole in my door causes my fist to bleed. My pocket vibrates: “Can we still be friends?” the text read, I didn’t reply.

The next day, I notice she is sitting with a boy. Laughing, smiling, like we used to do. It’s as if her dumping me and leaving me to my dark thoughts has no effect on her. In my locker, the combination we shared, I see what my heart cannot handle. Inside a flimsy brown paper bag is all the love notes I gave her, her birthday bear and a rose. Not just any rose, the rose I gave her for Valentines Day. The rose is hardly dead, still blood red. A closer look at the bear, I notice a shiny glare. Wrapped around the neck of the bear was the necklace I had gotten her on our one-month anniversary.

My shaking hands can hardly pick up the bag. I carry the bag to the closest trashcan, and I throw it in. My legs give out. I fall, racing my tears to the floor below. I gather my belongings, and head to class.

Today I only had two classes, because I’m going to skip all the classes she or her dumb friends used to share with me.

I stare into the clocks face, as it told me the time was 2:40 (PM). “DAMN!” I said while I begin pack up, foolishly thinking I was going to catch the bus.

I sit outside in the rain, watching the raindrops drip from my hair waiting for my mom to pick me up. When my mother finally came, I am soaked, cold and depressed.

Today is October 20th, 2011. I’m still just as upset, if not more. I have gym today. She has gym today. I had not gone to gym since she left me, and today was no different. I sit by myself in the atrium, listing to our song, “Won’t Let Go”, by Rascal Flatts, when one of her friends nervously approaches me. “Justin,” she chokes out, “It’s Noah..”

When she tells me the news I couldn’t believe it, I run outside to the football field and I cry, hard. I CAN’T believe it! I beat myself up, throw myself to the ground and let it all out. I pull out my cell phone and I speed dial Mom’s work, I tell her I need to go home. I tell her what I myself cannot comprehend. She is shocked with the news, I hear her say to her boss she needs to go home and that there is an emergency. I put my cell phone away, and I began to wait by the parking lot for her to pick me up.

When I finally got home, I was still crying. My Mother takes my head in her hands and calms me down. My Mom wants me to call Noah and confirm the tragedy, but to act like I didn’t know, so he could tell me himself. (If it is in fact real.)

“Hello?” I could hear the sickness and sadness in Noah’s voice.

“Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

“Well…” Noah went silent. I hear him mumbling under his breath but cannot make out what he is saying.

“Noah?”

“My father,” He swallows his words. “My father shot himself in the head!” Noah is now crying.

I don’t know what to say to him, if there is anything to say. I nod my head at my Mom, confirming the death to my Mom. She wipes her eyes and leaves the room.

“This morning before I left for school he hugged me and kissed my head. Told me he loves me.” Noah continued, “When we got here I noticed there were an empty six pack on the floor next to the gun case.”

“Oh my god Noah! I’m so sorry!” I finally spit out.

He begins to tell me that his sister Mara is coming down from college right now, and he and his little brother Adam is to be pulled out from school for a few weeks. Noah and I don’t talk for long, because his family was there and wanted to talk to both him and Adam. For the rest of that day I lay on my bed, wiping my tears and listening to sad country songs, already stressed about what was to come at the funeral.

October 22nd, 2011. Today Mom is picking me up early from school to go to the funeral, the she-devil nor her friends attended school. I’m wearing the dress shirt I wore when she and I graduated the 8th grade. A black button up shirt, with a white undershirt and my black jeans.

When we arrive cars filled the whole parking lot, along with the streets. We parked the car, as we got out I notice it is a nice and warm day. Birds chirping and a cold wind flips my hair back. Not caring about how I looked we walk into the crowd, I see my ex-girlfriend’s mother. She looks at me, looks me in the eye, her eyes, red and watery. I myself, have not started the water works. I was going to be strong for Noah, Adam, Mara, and their mother Tammy. I fight my tears as we enter.

A big screen in the middle front of the crowded room, pictures of the family play to sad music. I am mesmerized by the slideshow. We find a seat in the back row, no sign of the family. As I sit in the cold seat, I look around at all the crying faces. I see her. She glares at me. I watch her as she sits in the row across from ours. Her little brother, Kendal sits next to me. He starts talking to me, but I zone out what he is saying as I see Tammy walking our way with Adam.

She is shaking and crying, as she was thanking everyone for coming. Tammy goes to her family before me, thanks them for coming. Tammy turns around and sees me, I stand up. She grabs me and hugs me, “Oh Justin..” she says as she rest her head on my shoulder. “You are amazing, we love you and I’m so pleased you are here. You and Noah are like brothers, which makes us family. We love you Justin!”

“Tammy, we are here for you.” I say whipping a tear from my face. “You don’t have to do this on your own.”

She kisses me on the cheek and says, “You’re too sweet.”

Noah walks up “Your brother is here Mom.”

I hug Adam, Noah and they leave.

I sit down, looking at my black ripped up Converse.

The funeral is beautiful, a celebration of his life. Friends shared memories, and his niece sing a song dedicated to her beloved uncle. We all pay our respects in prayer. The service is two and a half hours long. On the way out, I hugged Tammy one last time, gave Adam my best, hugged Mara and Noah. “Call me anytime bro.” I told him while I hugged him. I feel him wipe a tear on my shirt.

November 5th, 2011. My pain is not going away. Tears just as strong, and spirit just as weak. In fact, my pain is getting worse. Deep pain: she and I broke up and Noah not being here. I realize I’m alone. All my time was wasted toward making her the happiest girl in the world, I had no time to make new friends at U32. But all my self-confidence went with my happiness. Gone.

Today I stay after to work out and try to let out all my anger, no luck. I’m still furious at this cruel world. It’s hard to work out with tears falling, out of my dark black eyes.

I pack up my things, sit and wait for the bus to pick me up. The bus doesn’t drop me off at my house; I normally go to Cumbys and my Mom picks me up from there. Today was different. I don’t want to wait at Cumbys for an hour, and have people stare at me like I’m a criminal.

There is a little comic book store, not too far from Cumbys, ‘Wonder Cards and Comics’. I’ve been in there once to sell some old coins, but never looked around. I tell the bus driver to drop me off there.

I walk off the loud and annoying bus. Through the cold, and darkness, a yellow neon Batman logo stands out in the window, Batman is always been one of my favorite Super-Hero. I walk into the crowded store, drop my bag off by the register, I am simply amazed by what surround me. A wall filled with heroic action figures, a big glass case filled with old vintage baseball cards and coins. Straight ahead of me was the rack for DC Comics. Superman, Batman, Red Hood, Justice League! An issue of Batman #1 catches my attention. It features the Batman surrounded by famous villains, Tow-Face, Joker, Clayface and many more! I picked it up and brought it to the register. I pulled out my wallet and gave him a five. I asked for some kind of case for the comic so it stays in good shape. He gave me a Bag and Board for twenty-five cents. He showed me how to seal it after reading it, and how to properly turn pages to keep it mint.

I looked down at my phone and see the time was 6:30pm and that my Mother has texted me.

“Where the hell are you??”

“I’m at Wonder Cards and Comics. The bus was having problems so I had to get off.”

I lie to her, I felt bad for worrying her, and I knew I’d be in deep trouble if I told her the truth. How am I suppose to tell her that I randomly got off because a bright shiny Batman logo caught my attention?

“I’m here.” She texted.

I look up at the older man behind the register, “My ride is here, I have to go. Thank you for everything!”

“Come back next week, Batman issue 2 is out next week. Here is a bag to keep it safer in the rain.”

“I’ll be back,” I say picking up my backpack, “Thanks again!”

I walk out of the store, and get into my Mom’s car. I look at the comic book I just purchased. I begin to refresh my memory about the origin of Batman; parents death, over come tragedy by taking down the criminals in Gotham city.. ”Wait a minute,” I say to myself, I look to my Mom, “That whole time I was in there.” I pause, shocked with what I was about to say.

“Yes?” Mom said.

“The whole time I was in there, it seems everything that had happened, just.. Disappeared.”

My Mom looks at me and smiled, thus began my love affair with the comic book universe. I felt a heartbeat in my throat, looked at the window, rain has stopped and it began to snow. This is the start of a new life, a better life.