Young Writers Society

This is kind of long. But, I have a few chapters of it written on my computer so I had to find a good part to stop that it wouldn't seem to abrupt. So bear with me. Comment and I don't know if this is that good but I like the idea and would fix it to make it better so.. Read on.

We approached Gray Middle School, with it's beige colored concrete walls, and metal double doors. There were woods off the the side and buses were pulled into the circle parking lot.

I walked in between two of the buses and into the entrance of the building. It contained a trophy case with trophy's and awards the school had won. I walked down the hallway towards my locker when a hand grabbed my shoulder. "Hey Lindsay," my friend Carolina asked.

"Hey Care," I said, her name was different, she hated it, but I liked it, it was different.

"Did you do the history homework?" She asked, opening her locker, which was right next to mine.

"Yeah," I replied. I had to graduate from high school, even though this was just middle school. If I did I would be able to escape this torture that I called life. I could be my own person, and never have to speak to my mom again.

"Do you think I could copy it, I promise this will be that last time!" She said, referring to the fact she always copied my homework.

I opened my back pack and grabbed the folder that contained my history worksheet, I handed it to her and she smiled, she bent down to stick the paper in her backpack, her wavy, sleek, blonde hair fell over her deep, green eyes. "Thanks Linds," she said and started grabbing books from her locker.

Suddenly Chase appeared at his locker, which was right next to mine as well. "My god," he said angrily.

"What?" I questioned. Chase was bipolar, so at this moment, he was mad. Nobody knew about him being bipolar except me and his family. He didn't want anybody else to know. It didn't matter, he would be fine in a few days or a week. I didn't really know, it all confused me too much. Unless he was having a manic episode, in that case, he would probably be mad most of the day, really talkative, and probably wouldn't sleep that night. However, he could also be depressive, in that case, he would be sad, and probably wouldn't do anything, and wouldn't concentrate. It was hard to know, I never really understood, but he might have taken medication so he could be okay. He mostly had mostly symptoms of manic behavior, but it could alternate. The thoughts swarmed through my head about all the things that could be wrong with him when I snapped back into reality.

"Caitlin," was his reply. Caitlin Morris, the girl who had liked him forever. "She keeps telling everybody I like her, I hate her, god what's her problem, I don't get it, it's so annoying, I wish she would just go away," he blabbered on and on. Then he suddenly changed the subject before I could even reply to what he was saying, "So do you think Mr. Douglas is going to give us that pop quiz today? I'm so not ready, if he does, I'm going to be so mad," he slammed his locker closed quickly and when the bottom didn't close all the way he kicked it hard so it closed. "I don't think he's going to," he waited for about two seconds, "Do you think he will?" He asked again in an agitated voice.

"I don't know," I replied.

He didn't even acknowledge my response, "Well I have to go, I'll see you later, okay bye," he said and ran down the hall.

I stared as he ran, "Someone sure if talkative today," Carolina said with a laugh.

"Yeah..." I said.

"And irritable, seriously what's up with him?" She asked closing her locker.

"I don't know," I said answered, closing my locker. I thought back to the day Chase told me he was bipolar.

The previous Year I was trying to sleep and suddenly my phone rang. I answered it quickly so my mom wouldn't wake up from her most recent anger.

"Hello?" I asked into the phone, it was late and I was extremely tired.

"Lindsay, it's Chase, you have to meet me somewhere," he said quickly.

"Okay where?" I asked quickly.

I heard him breathing on the other end of the line, "Gas station," he said and hung up.

I looked over at my clock, it was two 'o clock, not the safest time to be out walking, but Chase sounded urgent so I was willing to go.

I walked down the street, the gas station wasn't that far and when I got there Chase was already there. I approached him and he started talking right away.

"You know when I told you that I would tell you anything?" He said quickly, glancing back and forth.

"Yeah," I replied.

He started blabbering, quickly, and precise, "So, my parents were getting concerned about my 'behavior' so they took me to the doctor and for a while they've been doing all these tests, like asking me all these random questions that I had to answer all truthfully, and then they did this thing called a 'medical history test' and a 'physical exam'..." he stopped and waited for me to answer.

"So what?" I questioned. "That was hard to follow."

He frowned, "Get used to it, I'm bipolar," he snapped.

I was taken aback, Chase wasn't the type of person who you'd suspect to have a disorder like that. "What? Are you going to say something stupid like that you don't want to be my friend anymore?" He asked.

"No," I reassured him.

"Okay," he snapped and ran away back towards his normal house, with normal parents.

I walked back to my house, I had no way to research this, I didn't know much about it. I decided that I would when I got a chance to go the library.

When I finally went I learned that Chase could have manic episodes or more depressive types. From what I knew, he had more manic symptoms. But, he could act more depressed sometimes.

I had promised not to tell, Chase didn't want people to think of him differently.

Present Time

Suddenly I snapped back into reality and the bell rang. I walked to my class. I took my seat which was next to Chase, only because it was alphabetical order. Him being Chase Aarons and me being Lindsay Abbott.

He was tapping his pen against the desk rapidly. "He better not give us a pop quiz," he muttered angrily as Mr. Douglas started passing out papers. Chase exhaled deeply as he looked at the top of the paper, in big dark letters it read Pop Quiz.

I observed what Chase was doing. He stopped tapping his pen and stared at the paper blankly. He looked over at one of the walls that was covered with posters of parts of speech and things. Chase could be easily distracted at times like this so I jabbed his side with my elbow. "Ow," he yelped and frowned at me. I looked at him and pleaded with my eyes, trying to make him realize that he had to concentrate on what he was doing.

Mr. Douglas glared at us and everyone looked up, Chase slid down in his chair and looked back at the paper.

He wrote down a few answers and then started staring at his pen. He unscrewed the top and took it apart. "Focus," I hissed quietly. He frowned and grabbed a different pen. He finished the test quickly, walked up quickly to Mr.Douglas's desk, and handed him the test. I finished soon after, feeling good about my answers. Someone had warned me Douglas was planning a test and I had studied. I had to graduate, I had to get into a good college.

"I failed," he murmured sitting back down.

Mr. Douglas glanced up and frowned, "Chase, interrupt one more time, and you're going to have to leave," he said sharply.

Chase glanced up at him slowly and nodded. He opened a notebook and started scribbling in it, he pressed harder and harder until the point of the pen went through the paper and eventually through the whole notebook. He ripped the page out, crumpled it in a tiny ball and walked over to the garbage, throwing it out.

"Okay," Mr. Douglas said, "We only have a few more minutes, so was that test that hard?" He laughed.

Chase scowled, everything made him mad, I felt terrible, he couldn't help it. I wanted to hug him and make him feel better about himself. I always had to help people because I knew it sucked to feel like nobody cared. Just like I felt everyday.

Everyone shook their head, it wasn't hard, but for Chase, his concentration was extremely lacking and this would last for at least a week. The bell finally rang and Chase ran out quickly. I followed him.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"No," he said loudly.

"Why?" I asked, knowing the obvious answer.

"Because, I'm a mess and you know I can't help it," he said angrily. "It's his fault," he muttered. "I wouldn't have broke that notebook if he hadn't yelled at me."

"You 'broke' a notebook," I questioned realizing he was just finding someone to blame for his behavior.

"Yeah!" He said as if it was obvious, "Now I can't use it because there's pen on all the pages," he said. To me, or anybody else this was a childish excuse to be mad, but I had to try and understand

"It's not a big deal," I said, he backed away his beautiful eyes flashed with anger. Strands of his brown hair were out of place and he smoothed them down.

"Yeah it is," he whispered. "I hate this," he said as he started opening his locker and started exchanging his English books for his World History books and supplies.

"I know," I said touching his back, "I'm sorry."

He turned around, "I want to go home, I'd rather die then be here... this happens every time and I knew it would, I knew," he said.

"I don't think they're going to let you leave, unless you tell them, you wouldn't get in trouble if you just told them." I said referring to the staff at our school. I found myself realizing I should just take my own advice, if I told him, maybe he would understand why I never told him about my mother's problems and how we struggled to make ends meet.

"No," he yelled. Everyone turned around and his face flushed red, "No," he whispered.