Prologue
It seemed a dream at first, unreal, foggy, and void of any emotion. It couldn’t be real; the crumpled note filled with eraser marks and holes from where he scrubbed away to hard at words seemed merely a figment of my imagination. It had to be because it was the only logical explanation that came to mind. The only thing that made sense. Either that or someone else wrote this sorrow filled, dreadful, appallingly untrue note. It couldn’t be real. It simply couldn’t.
But it was. This wasn’t some sick nightmare I was having; it was real life. Time was trickling away like sand in an hour glass that was turned upside down. And I simply sat there on my bed, staring at this note, my eyes blurring with each word that I read. I refused to believe this note. Because if I believed it, if I trusted every word that he had taken so much time and care to write on this tear stained piece of paper, then that meant I’d never see my friend again.
It meant that Aidan was dead.
Chapter One
It was cold. The sun had not yet rose and the room was dark. The clanging of the alarm clock on the nightstand next to my bed told me the time, told me to get up and get ready for another day of work, another day of school, another day of college applications, and another day of that same feeling that consumed me everyday. Another day of feeling unfulfilled. The feeling had become so present in my life that for the most part, I didn’t notice it. It was always there, the void in the pit of my stomach, that voice at the back of my head telling me I needed something more to continue, that I needed something greater than my plan to simply live.
The alarm clock’s clanging rose in octaves, bouncing off the walls and hitting my eardrums like hammers on nails. I cringed, shut my eyes tightly and batted at the alarm clock with my hand, hitting the snooze button and turned over, ready to fall back asleep for another five minuets before my clock went off again. It was time to get up but I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want to deal with another day of studying, another day of listening to lectures on subjects I already knew, another day of coming home to sit down to three hours of homework and college applications that my father had ready to be filled out. I didn’t want to wake up.
The room was cold, my toes tingling, the comforter not providing enough heat, causing me to pull my legs in and my body to curl into a fetal like position, my hands clutching at the comforter that covered my body up to my shoulders. The pillow felt cool against my cheek and seemed to help the steady throbbing that was now pounding at my temple, telling me to wake up and get ready for the day. The day which I wish would just stay away.
The alarm clock clanged again. I groaned, turned over and stared at the ceiling and hoped that one day life would get better than this. A knock on the door told me that my wishes would have to wait until later. It was time to get up.
School started the same way it always did, as it had done for the past three years. One more year and I would be out of high school. It was one of the things that kept me going. The traffic was as bad as ever, starting at the bridge on RT. 216 and ending right at the light in front of our school. There were two lanes which dwindled down to one on the back road and many students and parents cut off other drivers by forcing their way into the right lane after riding the left lane. This left the morning with plenty of car accidents, mostly bumpers. I had my fair share of them, none that did any lasting damage and by seven ten I was in school, waiting for the day to begin.
That day started off like any other day. The ride up was tedious along with the five minuets wasted in the atrium sitting by the main stairs waiting for the bell to ring. It was pointless, meaningless. Just like my life was turning out to be. Pointless. I grumbled and sighed when the bell finally did ring and I could walk up the stairs to my first class which was boring and full of information that I already knew. I had another seven months to go before the school year was out. I hated myself for not graduating when I had the chance last year if I had taken summer school. I wanted out but to do what? I had no plan that I really wanted to fallow through, no goal in life, no dream. I was just going through the motions. I had been since I first took a step into the high school.
The day passed slowly, with me restless, shifting in my seat, looking at my wrist watch every fifteen minuets, waiting for a change. There was no change. I said bye to the few people I talked to and made my way to my car in the student parking lot and got in. I sat there for a few minuets, letting the lot empty and the traffic pass me by. I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath, inhaled, exhaled, and opened my eyes. I turned the keys in the ignition, allowing the car to fire to life with the excitement I wish I had. I wished for a lot of things. I never got them.
The car roared to life and sputtered as I put it into gear and eased it out of the parking spot. The lot was mostly empty, the buses gone. I pushed the cassette tape in and pressed play. The speakers gagged and gargled and finally the beginning chords to a song began to play, the tenor of the singer’s voice fallowing soon after, overlapping and complimenting. The lyrics I knew by heart and my fingers itched for my guitar to play along. My tongue was heavy in my mouth, the spit and moisture gone. I heaved a sigh and allowed the mix tape to voice what I could not.
Later I collapsed on my bed tired and worn. Three hours of homework done, along with two hours of studying and a half hour of dinner with the family. I turned onto my back and stared at the blank ceiling. The walls were bare, void of any posters or pictures most teenagers put up. They were spotless, clean, precise, and clinical, just like my life was turning out to be. And I hated it. I glared at the ceiling and grasped a pillow in my hands, chucking it at the ceiling above me and frowning when it fell back without even touching it. I sighed, closed my eyes, allowing myself a few moments of silence. The silence that allowed me to think and feel and be somebody else besides me.
A phone rang, my cell phone, which sat unmoving on my nightstand next to my alarm clock and lamp. I reached over and grabbed it in my hand. The caller id read “Joseph”, someone who I have considered to be my best friend since the third grade. He was a slacker where I was not, with his “take life as it comes” attitude, an attitude I wish I had adopted when we were younger. I sighed and flipped the phone open, holding it to my ear. “Hughes! Get your ass over here. It’s fucking Friday night and I’ve got one awesome party going right now!” came the graveled voice from the receiver. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“I don’t know. Parties aren’t really my thing,” I responded, returning my gaze to the blank ceiling. It wasn’t blank anymore. It was glaring at me, daring me to move.
“Come on Hughes, you have to. It’s our senior year and you have not attended one of the many parties I have thrown. No, if you value our friendship, which I know you secretly do, you will get your bony arse down here and celebrate with me right now!” I pursed my lips and stared at the ceiling which was now telling me to go, to move, to live. I looked at the clock which blinked eight at me with its neon green light. I sat up and looked around the almost barren room which gave no clue as to who slept in it. I needed memories and I needed to make them while I still had the chance.
“Alright. I’ll be there,” I said into the phone and smiled and laughed when Joseph gave a loud “whoop!” from his end. I shut the cell phone and shoved it into my pocket, shedding my button down shirt for a t-shirt which I hadn’t worn in years. It was a bit small but fit well enough. I grabbed my keys and rushed down the stairs and out of the door, calling to my parents that I’d be back at a reasonable time. It was time for a change. It was time fore me to live
End Sample.
It seemed a dream at first, unreal, foggy, and void of any emotion. It couldn’t be real; the crumpled note filled with eraser marks and holes from where he scrubbed away to hard at words seemed merely a figment of my imagination. It had to be because it was the only logical explanation that came to mind. The only thing that made sense. Either that or someone else wrote this sorrow filled, dreadful, appallingly untrue note. It couldn’t be real. It simply couldn’t.
But it was. This wasn’t some sick nightmare I was having; it was real life. Time was trickling away like sand in an hour glass that was turned upside down. And I simply sat there on my bed, staring at this note, my eyes blurring with each word that I read. I refused to believe this note. Because if I believed it, if I trusted every word that he had taken so much time and care to write on this tear stained piece of paper, then that meant I’d never see my friend again.
It meant that Aidan was dead.
Chapter One
It was cold. The sun had not yet rose and the room was dark. The clanging of the alarm clock on the nightstand next to my bed told me the time, told me to get up and get ready for another day of work, another day of school, another day of college applications, and another day of that same feeling that consumed me everyday. Another day of feeling unfulfilled. The feeling had become so present in my life that for the most part, I didn’t notice it. It was always there, the void in the pit of my stomach, that voice at the back of my head telling me I needed something more to continue, that I needed something greater than my plan to simply live.
The alarm clock’s clanging rose in octaves, bouncing off the walls and hitting my eardrums like hammers on nails. I cringed, shut my eyes tightly and batted at the alarm clock with my hand, hitting the snooze button and turned over, ready to fall back asleep for another five minuets before my clock went off again. It was time to get up but I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want to deal with another day of studying, another day of listening to lectures on subjects I already knew, another day of coming home to sit down to three hours of homework and college applications that my father had ready to be filled out. I didn’t want to wake up.
The room was cold, my toes tingling, the comforter not providing enough heat, causing me to pull my legs in and my body to curl into a fetal like position, my hands clutching at the comforter that covered my body up to my shoulders. The pillow felt cool against my cheek and seemed to help the steady throbbing that was now pounding at my temple, telling me to wake up and get ready for the day. The day which I wish would just stay away.
The alarm clock clanged again. I groaned, turned over and stared at the ceiling and hoped that one day life would get better than this. A knock on the door told me that my wishes would have to wait until later. It was time to get up.
School started the same way it always did, as it had done for the past three years. One more year and I would be out of high school. It was one of the things that kept me going. The traffic was as bad as ever, starting at the bridge on RT. 216 and ending right at the light in front of our school. There were two lanes which dwindled down to one on the back road and many students and parents cut off other drivers by forcing their way into the right lane after riding the left lane. This left the morning with plenty of car accidents, mostly bumpers. I had my fair share of them, none that did any lasting damage and by seven ten I was in school, waiting for the day to begin.
That day started off like any other day. The ride up was tedious along with the five minuets wasted in the atrium sitting by the main stairs waiting for the bell to ring. It was pointless, meaningless. Just like my life was turning out to be. Pointless. I grumbled and sighed when the bell finally did ring and I could walk up the stairs to my first class which was boring and full of information that I already knew. I had another seven months to go before the school year was out. I hated myself for not graduating when I had the chance last year if I had taken summer school. I wanted out but to do what? I had no plan that I really wanted to fallow through, no goal in life, no dream. I was just going through the motions. I had been since I first took a step into the high school.
The day passed slowly, with me restless, shifting in my seat, looking at my wrist watch every fifteen minuets, waiting for a change. There was no change. I said bye to the few people I talked to and made my way to my car in the student parking lot and got in. I sat there for a few minuets, letting the lot empty and the traffic pass me by. I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath, inhaled, exhaled, and opened my eyes. I turned the keys in the ignition, allowing the car to fire to life with the excitement I wish I had. I wished for a lot of things. I never got them.
The car roared to life and sputtered as I put it into gear and eased it out of the parking spot. The lot was mostly empty, the buses gone. I pushed the cassette tape in and pressed play. The speakers gagged and gargled and finally the beginning chords to a song began to play, the tenor of the singer’s voice fallowing soon after, overlapping and complimenting. The lyrics I knew by heart and my fingers itched for my guitar to play along. My tongue was heavy in my mouth, the spit and moisture gone. I heaved a sigh and allowed the mix tape to voice what I could not.
Later I collapsed on my bed tired and worn. Three hours of homework done, along with two hours of studying and a half hour of dinner with the family. I turned onto my back and stared at the blank ceiling. The walls were bare, void of any posters or pictures most teenagers put up. They were spotless, clean, precise, and clinical, just like my life was turning out to be. And I hated it. I glared at the ceiling and grasped a pillow in my hands, chucking it at the ceiling above me and frowning when it fell back without even touching it. I sighed, closed my eyes, allowing myself a few moments of silence. The silence that allowed me to think and feel and be somebody else besides me.
A phone rang, my cell phone, which sat unmoving on my nightstand next to my alarm clock and lamp. I reached over and grabbed it in my hand. The caller id read “Joseph”, someone who I have considered to be my best friend since the third grade. He was a slacker where I was not, with his “take life as it comes” attitude, an attitude I wish I had adopted when we were younger. I sighed and flipped the phone open, holding it to my ear. “Hughes! Get your ass over here. It’s fucking Friday night and I’ve got one awesome party going right now!” came the graveled voice from the receiver. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“I don’t know. Parties aren’t really my thing,” I responded, returning my gaze to the blank ceiling. It wasn’t blank anymore. It was glaring at me, daring me to move.
“Come on Hughes, you have to. It’s our senior year and you have not attended one of the many parties I have thrown. No, if you value our friendship, which I know you secretly do, you will get your bony arse down here and celebrate with me right now!” I pursed my lips and stared at the ceiling which was now telling me to go, to move, to live. I looked at the clock which blinked eight at me with its neon green light. I sat up and looked around the almost barren room which gave no clue as to who slept in it. I needed memories and I needed to make them while I still had the chance.
“Alright. I’ll be there,” I said into the phone and smiled and laughed when Joseph gave a loud “whoop!” from his end. I shut the cell phone and shoved it into my pocket, shedding my button down shirt for a t-shirt which I hadn’t worn in years. It was a bit small but fit well enough. I grabbed my keys and rushed down the stairs and out of the door, calling to my parents that I’d be back at a reasonable time. It was time for a change. It was time fore me to live
End Sample.