High as the Guillotine Blade [1]

I just switched schools because my last one only went to 9th grade, I've been going to Benidict High now for 5 months and have had to deal with my best friend commiting suicide, my grandparents and my dad fighting over me,  and being beaten by my dad everytime I'm near him.

I walked through the rigid cold of winter and into the warmth of Benidict High. I looked at the bruise on my arm and knew that at least 5 people would ask me what happened and I would have to be more creative than "I fell." I already had friends that thought I was bruising myself and of course all the others thought my dad was beating me. The second group was right. I guess you can't hide something like that.

I realized that it was almost 8 and I had to get to class, right before I reached the room and tripped and stumbled through the door. the only reason I ran was because Brandon was in this class. He was cute. But he was way too much of a popular- preppy kid.I liked him  but he didn't like me, he was the one for a blonde girl who's favorite color is pink. There was no shortage of what he wanted. I was always the girl with black hair, black eyeliner over my eyelids and I was one of the people that knew the Hot Topic inventory.

Another reason I went to this class was because it was Literature and we could write, and write, and write. The Teacher never limited us. my stories were constantly about death and depression. When your best friend dies that's all you can think about. I missed Ashley. she was the only one that relaly knew me, understanded me. But I was glad to have something to write about. Even if she was dead.

Today I wrote about a girl named Jenine. Her parents had been killed by a cerial killer and she was searching for the person behind the mask. only to realize that it was her. I was pretty proud of that. It was creative. When I write about things that I'm passionate about, the story gets very long. Like 5 pgs in the 45 mins we have for writing.

the next period was Algebra 2. I didn't really like it but I knew that in order to get a real job I have to learn it. My second best friend, now my best, Jessica, was in this class. Sure enough we would pass vulgar notes to each other about the teacher, and we wouldn't care if he caught us. I just think he knew what the notes were about so he wouldn't read them. Also I think sending us to and eternity of detention would make this man happy. So really I don't know why he didn't read them or take them.

next was Music Appreciation. skip. Nazi Teacher, who would mark you down if you didn't look at her. So whats the use? my mind was constantly off-track, but more about what I would do this weekend to get away from my dad.

Before the period started I went into the girls bathroom that none of teachers go in, and, as usual I was greeted with the smell of marajuana, which was nothing new, but something that was new was the percription bottles labled "Jackie Rivingston" who was Natalies mom and a little lower on the bottom it said "Oxycotin" on the bottle next to it there was the name "Jason Robin" who was Clemintines little brother and he was ADHD so I knew what those were. "Hey Dan, look what I found." Natalie said proudly

"Yeah, cool." I retaliated.

"So...you want some?" asked Clemintine

"They make you feel awesome" chimed Natalie. I could tell that she  already had popped some.

"No thats okay" I remembered how my mom died from an overdose  and I didn't want that to happen to me.

"What are you? some Preppy Goody-Goody?" Said Natalie. I started thinking about whether or not I really wanted to die. My mom was dead, my dad beat me. and wmy best friend was dead. I was to blame for most of it too.  If I was dead there would really be any bad aftermath. It's not Like I've never thought about killing myself before. And besides after my dad beat me I would be able to just pop some pills instead of crying or hurting myself. It would be a lot easier to deal with the pain of being hurt all the time.

"Clementine, give me the ADHD pills" I thought I would start with something a litter lighter so I wouldn't die if I took one over the reccommended dosage.

"Alright Dan! Lets do this!" Natalie was acually cheering me on. Clementine tossed me the bottle.

"How many should i take?"

"since your a starter and a little smaller just do 3 or 4" Clementine reccommended.

"That sounds about right but I usually shoot for one more" Said Natalie.

"I'll try to be safe and go with what Clem said but if that doesn't work then I'll try it your way Natalie" I picked up the bottle and popped the cap. the Pills were as white as the flowers that I set next to my mothers grave. I stopped and paused. I stared at the pills and saw my moms cold, white face. I couldn't do it and I wouldn't. Still looking at the pills I said "No. I...I can't"

"What?" Said Clementine in that attitude that she had.

"I can't do it. At least not now, I'll think about it though."

"Um...Okay..." Clemintine responded with a little bit of sarcasim in her voice.

I left he bathroom only to escape to the Janators closet and start crying. I hadn't seen my mom's face in that much detail for years. I didn't want to. I didn't want to feel that sence of sadness and crush. I was going to do it tomorrow, and if I couldn't hold up untill then I might even do it later today during history.

as I walked to my next class, French, I thought even more about the pills and even more about my mom. when I got there I silently took my seat as always and tried to listen. About 10 minutes into the class I had no clue what they were talking about. I asked if I could use the restroom. "it's an emergency" I wasn't lying. it really was an emergency, I needed to see my mom. I knew I wouldn't be back for the rest of the class and I would have to miss next period too, so I would have time to work off the high, that was sad because it was art. One subject that I loved more than any other. I really liked this class because I could always express myself throuh the art. I had this impulse though, and I had to fulfill it.

I ran to the bathroom as fast as I could. I prayed that Nato and Clem would be there with their bottles of Oxycotin and ADHD medication. I ran so fast I could hear the wind blowing in my ears, but I also heard my mom. She was wispering in my ears somthing that I couldn't really understand but I had to get to the bathroom, I had to feel that it wasn't that bad. I knew it was though. I had to ask for some to bring home too, so that the pain of my dad beating wouldn't be so bad. I knew that when that happend I could only think about what a fuck-up I am, the only way to forget was the pills.

I finally got to the bathroom and my head zig-zagged from side to side, looking for my friends. I didn't see them I stumbled into a stall and felt so hurt. I didn't know what to do I didn't know if I could make it to History but I had to try.

During art I barely payed attention to anything. I couldn't think about anything but whether or not I should do it. I decided that I wouldn't because everytime I thought about her I could write it down or something like that, but I really wasn't that confident in that. On the other hand I could just check myself into the insane asylum. If I did that I would have to tell the therapist that my dad beat me, I would go to a foster home and my dad would kill me the next time he saw me. 

On the other hand i could not do the drugs and keep thinking that I didn't mean anything to the world or anyone, but If I did the drugs I would forget about the what was really going on and I needed that desperately.

I could tell that the realy reasone my dad broke up with my mom was because he didn't want her calling the police on him. He would beat me because he thought that if I was never born she wouldn't be dead and she wouldn't have ever been addicted to drugs. Basically he still loved her.

Before I realized it, I was drawing sketches of my mom on the paper and I was drawing the white pills right next to her. I crumbled up the paper and threw it in the garbage. I buried my head in my hands. my mom's death was controlling my life.