I don’t want you to feel pain in the “loss” of me. Trust me on this. I’m much happier.
After replaying the memories over and over in his head, he decided to get started on his story even though he didn’t even know where to start. He finally opened a new Internet tab, searched “facts about drugs” and clicked on the first link that popped up. Blocked by the school server. Second link; blocked by the school server. Third link; blocked by the server. By the time he had gone through the first two pages of links, he finally gave up and decided to just start with whatever came to mind. Sadly that meant nothing. Unless the teacher wanted a sob story about his real-life experience with drugs.
He decided to just unplug his flash drive and pack up for the day. He would worry about it when he got home and worried about everything else that had happened during the day. Oh, and of course do homework.
When he went home, he had the mindset to do homework and get other things done but he ended up just updating his blog and listening to music, putting off work for the next morning at school. He planned on getting home and going on all of the sites on his home computer and typing the column there. He hoped he would stay on track then, as this was a major grade. If you didn’t have your story in by the deadline, then your story wouldn’t go in the next issue, if it went in any issues at all.
It was terrible to not get a story in on time or just to write a badly written story because both of those meant it wouldn’t go in the issue. It was an awful feeling; the feeling that you had worked so hard on something and it just turned out horribly wrong and then you don’t get credit for it. He thankfully had never been in any of those situations with schoolwork, but he definitely had been in those with his novels.
Picking up his backpack, Josh unzipped the front zipper, dropped his USB drive in there and zipped it back up, securing it safely. If he ever lost that little device, he would be screwed because that thing practically held his whole life. That little green and white stick of technology held poetry, song lyrics that he wrote and some famous ones, novels, homework and journalism columns. If it were gone, he would fail half of his classes and not be able to write anymore. So as anyone would guess, he was extremely cautious with it.
Once he had his backpack on his shoulders, he sat in a rolling chair and rolled on over to one of his journalism partners, Macy. She was a senior and was barely passing all of her classes with low C’s in every subject. Her medium length, black hair fell into curls down her neck and she found herself consistently tucking the sides in behind her ears. She always wore glasses, although she didn’t need them, and her makeup colors consisted of black and grey. Even her rosy lips were always painted a charcoal-black. She claimed that black made her look skinnier. Her wardrobe was quite drab as well, but Josh actually found her sense of style fashionable; if he was a girl, he’d probably dress like her. She never failed to wear skinny jeans daily, with a loose-fitting shirt and normally some sort of trench coat or vest over the top. Her shoes were quite surprising and changed on a daily basis. Combat boots, penny loafers, converse, ballet flats, and anything antique were what you would find covering Macy’s pasty white feet.
She, sadly, had been in quite a few of those situations that he described earlier in the story. She never got her work in on time and if she did get it in, it was pretty bad. So after the four years of being in high school, she only had one piece of work in the school magazine. It was a graph on the favorite places for students to eat around town. She didn’t mind though, her mindset was “at least I got something in!”
That was something that he admired about her. She was always so optimistic and carefree that she didn’t really care if something bad happened. She always found a way out. This was always something that he wished he had.
Josh sadly did not have this gift. He seemed way too caught up with life and depression that he couldn’t see past any of the bad stuff. He almost forced himself to stay depressed by not wanting to be happy again. But he still didn’t even know what he wanted; everything was just too confusing.
Life was so hard… harder than it had ever been it seemed. Every time he walked the halls or even just walked anywhere, he saw people happy, people in love, people smiling, people laughing. No one was crying, no one was sad, no one was depressed… just him. Just him.
“Are you okay?” Macy questioned Josh.
“Ye- Yea- Yeah. Yeah I’m fine… thanks,” he shakily replied.
“Hurmph,” Macy remarked with an unbelieving look and a shrug, then walked back to her computer.
He was still wondering how in the world she had known he was upset, when he realized that he had been crying. He laughed at himself for being so oblivious to this, wiped his tears with his sweater and inched his way to nowhere in particular.
With his eyes on the floor he couldn’t tell where he was going and accidentally bumped into Karen, Macy’s twin, who was the exact opposite of her sister. He looked up and stammered a very shaky “s-s-sorry” and kept on going. Karen just watched him leave and chuckled to herself with a wide smile. She thought he was so cute. Not in looks, but in actions. How clumsy and slow he was.
Josh somehow made his way back to the couch and threw himself back on it. He slumped his head onto his folded hands and closed his eyes. Telling himself that he wasn’t going to fall asleep just made him sleepier. Slowly, his eyes seemed to be gluing themselves shut until he was in a deep, deep sleep.