Crush

I twindle my fingers silently as I look at his straggly few morsels of hair take over his baldness. I then notice his nostrils flare out every time he talks. I focus now on the far end wall across the metal plated desks and the wooden materials on the far desk next to the far wall. I look at the wall in the left top hand corner and notice that it had a cluster of scratchings that peeled off the old paint. I just stared at this for a depressing ten minutes. I then gazed down with my eyes about halfway from that mark in the wall to a gorgeous most wonderful girl I have ever met. I gaze at her not for ten minutes but for a mila second and punch my eyes down to the corduroy back pack that had white out sketchiness and traces on the edges of the bottom creases. I buried my thoughts into myself. When class was over I head to out to the hallway and slender my arms hanging deadly besides my plaid shirt and khaki pants. I then dragged my under average body through the hallway trying to look like the loner I was. I had a hard life I felt if anyone were to trade places with me they would end up screaming there heads off in insanity. Everyday I would come to school with this over weight backpack with the wheels on the bottom and these thrift store shoes and wonder everyday if she will ever notice me. The only thing that kept me going everday was this girl that held my heart so dearly. Although she probably did not even know I existed I still went on sane all because of her. We had five classes together and we would of had six but I was smarter in math and had a higher class then her. I would look at her off and on trying not to look like a jerk and just view her blushing skin and her dark wavy hair straddle her face as the heavens do with the clouds on the sun. I wanted her to notice me but it seemed impossible. I was really shy and it seemed she was to, but I felt she was so much better then I. I was such a loser and did not talk to anyone. Why would she even glance at me for even a question. So I would live my days just holding on to the string that was not woven and I tried so hard to hold onto it.

I went about the day from being mortally depressed and run down to going home and being even lower. I had two brothers and both were an aww for my dad. As soon as I would step off the bus and walk to deadly walkway of my house I would be tormented by my brothers before they left for there work. They were older and felt that I was a girl and would never be a man. I think what caused there ego to rise so much was the ultimate person that would conduct such behavior to be exceptable. I would clean the house and do my homework until my dad would come home and yell at me screeching of how he made a mistake with hisa last son and he wish the gods would take me back. He would tell me to stop with what I am doing and go to his blasted work and help him out everyday. He said it would make me a semi man that I am suppose to be. I went everyday with him after school and lifted weights and bars and carry dirt and hammer away. I would do all this with no pay but an ego of manhood for whatever that is. If I did something wrong he would yell at me and call me the dirt under a rock that gets no sunshine, cause I was the lowest of lows. He would then swing at me and hit me till I got the point in what he was saying.

I went to school like I had no life and I was made for the earth to just bag on how horrible I contribute to it. If it was not for Lisa I don't think I could make it day to day, let alone the treacherous weekends. One day with the endless desperation of the day I got on the bus and was entirely exhausted from the five miles ran today in PE and entered my house. I walked hazily through the door and head through the hall with my back pack clinged lifelessly by my fingers as it plummets to the hard wood ground. I fall endlessly upon my bed and rest.

I woke up with the sharpest blunt feeling I ever felt. Rouge blood fell to the ground along with my shoulders and body. I then got struck three or four times by him on my shoulder blades and kicked with the sharp hurtful pain in my ribs and I just looked at the old nail that stuck in the wooden floor just as I was. I wanted to die right there and for it to kill the pain that was hurting even more then these blunted bruises given to me. He silently moved back and looked at me as my vision focused on him in delirium. He said in soft serious sharp tone, "You better fucking come to work everyday from now on, I do not care if you are tired!" I nodded and with an out of body response and said I will I promise. He left without a hesitation that I would do anything wrong after such an act of desperation and heartless beating. I scrambled to my feet and went upon the rest of the day waiting for the next.

It was the next day and here I was with scrapes of dried blood and bruises on my left eye lobe and my head indented in. I came to the bus stop got on the bus with stares of repulsing. I came off the bus and the inching step I set upon school coming grounds I started to walk back. I did not want Lisa to see me like this. I wanted her to see me as the loser I was not the disgrace I was. My house was five miles back and it was forty degrees outside. I still walked and I could feel the frozen breezes hit my wounds on my face. I finally got home with my body and mind numb. I walked slowly in my doorway and with my handle of my back pack swinging low it thudded on the tile floor of the kitchen. I walked through to the garage and scrambled to find the open three feet stool. I grabbed it and went to take it to my room. I went in my room and placed the stool on the left shadowed corner of my room. I then went to the closet and took off my shirt and my khaki pants. I fumbled through my clothes and at the very end of the hanging clothes I consumed I grabbed the light blue polo shirt. I ironed it and put it on, and then took the black trousers and belt and fastened to neatly and steadily. I then went to the restroom and washed off the dried blood on my face and gelled my hair. I looked at myself briefly and thought this is what I would of worn if I ever had a date with her. I then went back into the garage and searched for the a hook and drill. I stood on the stool and drilled the hook deep in the left part of my cornered ceiling. I then went to the kitchen and found a boy scouts tied rope. I wrapped it around the hook and head back through the living room hallway. As I was passing through the hallway I knelt down for a moment in fetal position and cried with soft tears and no sound. I then got to my feet and grabbed the metal clip.

Everyday I wait for him, and his presence. I wonder what he does after school and how I could ever get the guts to talk to him. I admired how he could draw anything and write intense novels in English. I was to shy though to come to the bravery to talk to him. I loved him, but was to nervous to speak anything. I could never tell if he ever glanced a stare my way, but I sure did when he was not looking. I had the biggest crush on him. Today when I came to school I knew it was his birthday and had gotten up the strength to talk to him finally. I wanted to wish him happy birthday. He was not here yesterday and was hoping he was here today.

The first period that I had with him was art and he was absent, then the school as soon as I got there was escorted to a rally. It was an announcement of a memorial for Jessie, and telling that his soul had left us yesterday morning. I must of died inside to hear this. He was the only thing I came to school everyday and the only thing I lived to for fill my loneliness.

The image below me is getting blurry and my hands are rendering numb. My hands are clenching free and my legs are tangling to crumbling in drowning depths of death. I breath my last thought of her gaze she gave me when I asked her for a pencil and her hazel and brown cornea's looking up at me. She looked down to pick up her pencil that she dropped and her barett fell off on the floor. She then blissed away in focus of the teacher and I picked up the clip. The metal and flowered barret. My hands went clenched cluttered and my fingers went free. The rope tightened around my throat muscles and glands. Blackness. Dark. Gone. The barret fell to the floor.

Hung for You

Troubles so deep your my life line, there but bleak,

Nothing for me here for I am crippled in mind and body to weak,

I dress for you and make you my last thought,

As I end the pain and the cowards who fought,

Love me or not, see me or speak,

I look for the devils freedom as I hold my dangled feet,

Lies under the the metal Barret,

Since we forever never met.