alecto - your little bluejay (pollytrance) wrote,
alecto - your little bluejay

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The Little Boy...

I went to group last night, and then I called Aaron and asked him directions to his house. On the way there, the houses and stuff alongside of me seemed very familiar, and I found Mya's house. I went in and grabbed the beautiful little pixie, and then we proceeded to Aaron's, where he gave us glowing skull confetti and a light show to go along with medicine drum.

We asked if he wanted to come to Benicia with us, and he said no, he was too busy. It was a sad day. But anyway, Mya and myself got into my car and went to First Street, where we were looking for Josh, but instead found Josh's self-proclaimed keeper, Miguel. He said he'd tell Josh to call me, but I'm not sure whether or not he remembered.

We drove all the way down and back up, getting more and more nostalgic at every turn. Mya hadn't been back to Benicia in like two years, and they had closed up Clay's. It was a tragedy. Then we got onto the subject of Mike, and there was no turning back.

We drove up to see if Stefan was home, but he was at punk rock Mike's house, so we went to see Aaron instead, but we had totally just intruded because no way was he ready for company. Mya thought he was in his thirties. I thought this was incredibly funny.

We were gonna stop by Lindsay's, but Mya had to make curfew, so I had to take her back.

After I dropped her off, I came back and got fast food, and then drove home. I couldn't sleep because I was afraid my car was going to get broken into. (But that wouldn't have mattered, because my parents say they are going to sell it anyway.)

Yes. My relationship with my parents is becoming slowly non-existant. But that won't matter, because in a year, whether I am done with high skool or not, I have decided that I'm taking my life. For real. Let the countdown begin.

On Sunday, Toni, Jessica and myself were driving around trying to find a dumpster in which to dispose the Smirnoff box, and we finally found one at Matthew Turner, but to get there, we had to drive into this court and turn around.

In the court, I saw this little boy with whom I share a PE class. I shrieked with excitement and rolled down my window to talk to him.

"Hey!" I yelled, "How are you?!" I don't know his name, but I know his face. I talk to him all the time.

"Hey!" he yelled back. "I thought you were gonna be in our PE class."

"I am," I tell him. "I just haven't been at school. Are we still doing volley-ball?"

"No," he says. "We're doing football now."

"That sucks," I say. "I liked volleyball."

"Are you coming to school next week?" he asks. He is so innocent. I remember when I was as young as he was. In a way, I am incredibly jealous of him. But more than that, I feel like I need to protect him from the pain of the world. I never want him to be hurt. I love him, like he's my kid.

"Yeah," I say. But I know it's probably not true because I find it incredibly difficult to go to skool.

I want that little boy to see me around skool and not be afraid to say hello because I am a senior, or because I am with my friends. When he has a problem, I want him to call me. I want to make him happy like no one ever did for me when I was that age.

But he will see me around skool and he won't say hi. He will feel like he's not important enough because he is a freshman and we only have PE together. He will wait for me to say hi first.

But I can never pick out his face among the thousands I go to skool with. I can pick it out in a court on a sunny day. But drifting through the sea of faces, I see no one, even when one is calling my name. This is a tragedy. He will never know how much I truly love him. How much I would love to be his big sister and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him.

My biggest fear in the world right now is that he will turn out like me. That he will blow off everything until the last minute and then drown in it.

Wherever you go, my boy, I am with you. I am thinking of you. I am here for you. I will never forget you.

Just because I don't know your name doesn't mean you're not in my thoughts.

And the hardest part about this is that it's not the kind of thing you can just tell someone without coming off as totally psychotic.

I love that little boy, and I hope life is kind to him .

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