View from the void

I hold the phone to my ear and hear it ring. “Oh god, why am i doing this to myself... oh. My grades. riiight.” A hear a click as someone picked up the phone: “Hello there, Page Household here.” My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach. That voice. Amy. Oh god. How. Why. The piece of paper flickers before my eyes. Amelia P. P, like Page.

“H-He, Hello there, my name’s Ethan.” Way to go.

The phone remains silent for a good 30 seconds. I hear a muttering on the other side, and wonder whats going on. Suddenly, the voice comes to life again: “Ethan? Ethan Smith? How did you get this number? Its Amy.”

Dear god. thats just what i needed to sooth my nerves.

“I got the number from Mr. Wright, my class teacher. He said someone called Amelia was is his class once and she could maybe help me get my grades up.”

As if talking to her out of nowhere again wouldnt be shameful enough.

“Oh. Yeah, i guess my big sister could help you, she’s that kind of a smartass. I’ll get her on the phone for you, so just wait a second okay?” Another chill crawls up my spine, freezing me to the bone: “Y-yeah, that would be great, thanks.” I can hear her walking through her house, calling her sister: “Big Sis, it for you!” I hear a thumping sound, like someone walking down a flight of stairs. I new voice comes through the phone: “Hello there, Amelia here, how can i help you?” My heart slows donw a little: “Hello there, my name is Ethan Smith. I got your number from Mr. Wright, he told my that you could help me the get my grades on a better level.” I short silence. “Depends, how much would you pay me?” I freeze, thinking about it before i here laughter from the other side: “I’m joking buddy, i teach for fun. How ‘bout you come over next saturday, then we could look over what you need help with.”

I think about it. Just like that walking into Amy’s house like a belong there? I’d be pretty emberrassed. But i guess i’ll be needed to do it. For my grades you know.

“S-sure, that sounds great.”

“Good, i’m just gonna patch you up with my adress, ill expect you at point 2:00PM, got it?” She slowly tells me the adress and repeats it so im able to write it down. “Allright, got it captain, point 2:00PM. I’ll be there.” I hear a faint laugh and conversation: “Thats what i like to hear. So, Amy wants to talk to you again, so ill be off. See you saturday then.” I make a mental note for saturday: “Sure, saturday. See you then.”

Wait, what was the other part?

Before my mind is able to correctly understand to meaning of it, her voice comes through the phone again: “So, i heard youre coming over on saturday?” I hear her chuckling to herself: “You better prepare to learn, my sister can be... dedicated.” “I’m sure its gonna go great, what could go wrong?”

A silence grows over the line, carrying the noise of thousands of pet-rocks.

I think about it for a second, then grab my courage: “Hey Amy, are you free on saturday?” After another short silence she answers: “Pretty much, why?” I think about asking him first, then realize he’ll be okay with it anyway: “I’m heading over to a friends place to play some games, would you like to join us? It would be way more fun with a player 3. There’ll be snacks, drinks and lots of fun.” I let myself fall into my sheets, looking at the ceiling. Her answer sounds insecure: “Yeah, i’d love to hang out with you guys.” I smile to myself: “Great, i promise it’ll be fun. Can you give me your number? then i can text you the adress.”

Moments later we exchanged numbers, and had a short conversation about each others favorite food. I’d kill for lasagna, and shes a noodle-fan. So of i ever take her out for dinner... wait what the hell am i thinking about?! She’s just a friend...

We said our good-byes and wished eachother good night.

Today evolved different than i suspected, but i cant say im mad.

Even though it seem that my abilities are not grown enough yet, i start to somewhat understand before our teacher wipes it all out of existence. The bell rings, releasing a torrent of students to be unleashed at the yard below, all on their way home, or shopping, polo-practice or whatever they might be doing after school. As my class, uncluding me, start to exit the classroom, my teacher, Mr. Wright, stops me: Ethan, can i talk to you for a second?

Oh great, just what i hoped for. “Whats the matter Mr. Wright, is something wrong?” He signals me to take a chair and sit down, so i do. He ponders for a second, i guess looking for words, before he starts speaking: “Listen Ethan, i have been informed about your parents… situation about their relationship, and i feel that its taking its toll on you.” I didnt expect anyone to know, neither to care. “Be the things i saw in your behaviour, your sleeping habits took most of the damage,” he flips a page, showing me a list of number, most blacked out.

“Its your grades that suffered, too. Like this, you will not be able to join your class next year, but you will need to re-do this year, most likely in Mrs. Nickelsons class.”

I freeze. I knew my grades werent the best, but i didnt expect that i was lacking this severe. My mind starts racing, thinking about losing my bonds to the only friends i have, to Andrew, to Chiara. It makes me want to cry, want to scream. But i know it wouldnt help me.

I focus and collect my thoughts, and Wright grew silent, giving me time to take in the confrontation. “I see,” i start, my voice a little shaky, “is there anything i can do against that? Anything i can do to still pass your class?” He looks me straight in the eye, clearing prepared for that question: “There is. Your grades arent looking good, but its not yet too late. If you keep up and get those grades up, you can still make it.” My heart relaxes, so going on like this is somewhat in range. “But…” he continued, “as i said before, i know about your situation at home. I’d like to have you make two promises to me, the first one being to fix your sleeping cycle, as good as possible. 8 hours of sleep every night are usually enough…” I give him a weak smile: “I was planing on fixing that myself to be honest, but i havent really found the time to do it yet. I’ll make it a priority.” He doenst answer, just returns a little smile, satisfied with my answer. “And the second one?” i ask, clearly pushing the conversation to finish as soon as possible. “I want you to get help.” I raise an eyebrow, asking myself since when he turned to a psychologist. “For studying Ethan, how you handle your situation at home is clearly your decision.” I turn my head, feeling a little dumb for suspeting him of judging me like that. I think about my two friends for a minute, and realize that one cant really help me with studying and the other doenst have the time to. “Mr. Wright, do you have anyone i could ask for help? Maybe another student or a teacher that gives after scholl lessions?”

“I think i know someone who could help you.” He writes down a number and two words, then hands me the note.

Its a phone-number, followed by a name: “Amelia P. Sounds friendly.” i mumble to myself. “She’s an old student of mine, and the older sister of a first year. She always told me that she liked helping others out, so i guess it cant hurt to give it a try.” I wonder about her last name for a second… Phillips, maybe Parker? i let the thought go, not giving it any more attention, focusing on the conversation again: “Would that be all then Mr Wright? I’d really like to get home soon.” He nodded at my, dismissing the conversation: “Have a safe trip home.”

I take my leave, stuff the note in my pocket, grab my lonely coat from the rack on the wall and throw my bag over my shoulder. I make my way out of the now building, left silent, freed from the deafening noise of other students. I step outside, breathing the cold autumn air.

I find a free table and sit down, unpack the sandwich and take a bite. Tastes like chicken, who wouldve guessed. Tumbling through these ultimate thoughts of endless meaning, i sit there, undisturbed by the fact that another person has found a seat right across from me.

“Ayy Ethan, you got the homework done for math?” I snap out of my thinking, raising my view from my sandwich to the person sitting in front of me. “What?” “Math-homework man, i didnt have time yesterday and if i dont hand it in again Mike’s gonna have my head!” He raises his arms, amplifying his rediculous statement. I shake my head: “You were stoned out of your mind again, werent you?” He grinned at me, wiggling his arms: “Just a little, you know me.” “I sigh, pulling me homework from my backpack, handing it to my dearest friend.

Andrew Morrison, just as old as me and standing about half a head taller then all of his classmates. Spending most of his time riding or working on his bike, or smoking weed. We got to know each other in a group project at the start of our first year. I did all the work, but at least found a good friend. Since then we spent some time together, i even got to take a turn on his beloved bycicle. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but can act like an all-star for sure. (Refrence/Pun intended.)

He slides my papers back to me after hastily scribbling my results under the equations. “Thanks buddy, i owe you one.” I smile back at him: “That makes about eight now dude. Im scared that you’ll someday try to take me out for dinner.” He throws his head back, letting out a laugh: “You know i dont swing that way, but ill pay you back, i promise.” He turns to the side and starts to cram through his bag, which is filled to burst. With the same victorious sound as a miner finding gold, he pulls out his own lunch. Silence falls as both of us dig in. Finishing my sandwich with a last big bite i pull out my phone to check on a few blogs i follow to see if there’s anything new. Sadly not, so i put it back where it came from. Resting my head on my arms, i almost drift off into slumber again. I really need to fix that.

Out of nowhere Andrew speaks up again: “Are you free this weekend? I’ll probably just sit at home, play games and have a good time, and i’d love some company.” I think about it for a minute without answering. Am i free? AM i even doing something with my life? Chiara got her band, He got his bike, im pretty sure Amy has something in her life too, probably something literary...

I suddenly i sting at my forehead. I jerk back as a reaction, and Andrew bursts out laughing. He poked my face with the straw from his drink. As i realize that, i start laughing too. Maybe spending some time with my buddy wouldnt hurt. “Sorry, i got sidetracked. Yeah, i’ll join you.” a sheepish grin spans my face: “But only of you dont get mad at me again for beating you, allright?” At first he looks a little hurt, then smirks: “I got some training done, i’ll show you who’s boss!”

Andrew and i spend the rest of lunch talking about all kinds of random things and decide the time for me to come over.

Our standard-gaming talk about the different paths in undertale is suddenly broken by the bell, indicating that its time to return. We pick up our trash from the table and toss is in the bin. Making our way down the hall, Andrew grows silent. I turn to face him, walking sideways in a silly way for a few steps: “Something bothering you? Youre so quiet out of nowhere.” He turns his head, laughing it my walking style, followed by a question: “Hey man i know its not my thing to decide on that, but...” He pauses, “Nevermind, i forgot.” He smiled at me awkwardly, turning his head back to look forward.

Wierded out by his sudden change i turn to face forward again too. We walk silently for a minute, closing in on the classroom. I give him a slap on the back: “You know you can always talk to me buddy, no need to be scared of anything okay?” I smile at him, he smiles back. “Yeah... thanks man”

There i sit again, 11:46PM, trying to figure it out. Digging for it, looking all over the place, all kinds of ways, all kinds of viewpoints, trying to find them. Only the right ones will do, all other will be meaningless and will destroy my way towards my final goal.

But like this, im getting nowhere. Scribble my thoughts onto my paper, read it, erase it. Repeat.

No words seem to fit, they dont seem right, they dont feel... ready. But maybe its not the words, but me who isnt ready. Pondering on that for a minute, i dicide that im out of my mind from lack of sleep, jamming it back into my backpack, i walk to my open window. The cold, damp air of the night sends chills down my spine, and i take a deep breath. Maybe its time to sleep. I shut the window, and slowly pace to the bathroom to clean my teeth.

Returnning to my room, i lay down on my bed. staring at the ceiling and starting to let my mind drift off, my thoughts return to her. But something feels...different. I close my eyes to focus on it, and think about how she looked up on that stage at her last gig with the band, her singing, her moves, how she played. It was an amazing concert, but even before that i allready felt like she was the one i wanted. But how on earth could she ever want to be with someone like me? I mean the only reason she talks to me is because we are childhood friends... i tossed and turned in my bed, fighting the self-loathing, pushing it all away, focusing on other themes, themes which didnt make me want to jump out of my now closed window.

My thoughts wandered, and ended on another girl. Amy. i remember that day as we walked home together, in the rain. i smile to myself thinking about how boned i would’ve been i she hadnt come along. As i relive walking home with her, nervously talking, shyly joking, i start to calm down, drifting further, my focus falling apart, shapes losing form, memories of voices turning to echoing whispers...

I open my eyes. I take a look around. Im dreaming again.

My mind has returned me to the house. The same old house as always, the same interior, the same walls, the same everything. Wandering the house as i always do, i ask myself if sleeping normally is even a possibility lately...

I stop in my tracks, holding my breath, standing like frozen in time. I hear i noise. There was never a noise before, and the instant i hear it it was gone again. I focus, listening for other unusual things. Footsteps. Light, fast, like a child trying to find a hiding place when playing hide and seek. Then i heard it, a voice: “Come find me...” The words reverbing in my tired mind, they sounded ancient, like a memory long lost, yet so familiar.

I start to look around the house, always looking for the source creating the noise. Its always out of sight, no matter how close. Seems to disappear and reappear around this house i couldnt recall the owner of. I follow the noise, upstairs, down the hall, finding myself infront of that old, familiar locked door, with a single difference. I grab the doorhandle, turning it. The door was unlocked. I started to push, but stopped.

Another noise started to fill the house. Listening closely, i finally realize what it was.

And wished i didnt.

“Why now out of all times?” My mind starts rising from sleep, destroying all pictures and noises my dream had so softly, so perfectly left behind. I rub the sleep out of my eyes. Shutting of my alarm, i pull myself up to sit at the edge of my bed. I close my eyes again, trying to remember the voice, what little i saw from the mysterious room behind that damned locked door.

All kinds of questions about my dream, the voice and the room started to flood my mind, looking for answer, just to find the same unsatisfying answers as always or even more unsolved riddles.

As i wander on my way towards school, a voice calls to me: “Hey Ethan, are you just gonna leave me behind?”

I stop in my tracks and turn around. Chiara was chasing after me in a brisk pace, nearly bumping into me: “Good Morning,* i answer, “Sorry about that, i was lost in thought.” She looked in my face, scaning me for a moment, like checking if i really was who i looked like: “Its not nice to just forget about me you know?” Then she walked past me, and i followed, fearing that i had really made her mad at me. “What were you thinking about anyway?” She poked at me stomach: “Thinking about how to get around homework again? You know that the old ‘i forgot them at home’ isnt gonna cut it anymore, right?” she giggled. I tried to evade her attack, taking a step away into a safe distance, then returning: “I know, and ‘my dog ate it’ doenst work without a dog either, im really under pressure.” Flashing a grin at her, her laughed, trying to poke again: “Maybe a goldfish can do the trick. No, for real now, what have you been thinking about? You didnt hear me at first.”

“Oh, nothing special.” I couldnt just straight up tell her that i was thinking about yesterday. Walking home with Amy was... special. It was nice, having someone to talk to while going home, as Chiara always had something going on after school. Going for a drink with others, shopping, what do i know. I still wished that i could repeat yesterday, but the gods controlling the weather said no. Yesterdays clouds have dissapeared, leaving a clear blue sky to walk under.

I realized that someone was staring at me. I turned my head and was greated by a grin. “I mean it. There’s nothing special going on exept... you know.”

Her grin faded immediately, and a sliver of sorrrow became visible in her eyes: “R-right, you told me about it. Im sorry, i wont push you on it. But you can always talk to me, just give me a call ok?” She gave me a weak smile.

“Thanks, i’ll keep it in mind.” Seeing her like this hurt me, so i switched the subject: “So, how’s your band going? Any gigs coming up?”

Her expression shifted a little, but not too much: “Sadly not. After Diana quit, we are still left without a bass. We are looking for a place to hold auditions, and maybe we can use the music room at school.” Her face lightened up: “Im sure we will find someone, sooner or later. And then we will rock the world.” Singing the last words, her melodic voice grabbed the attention of other pedestrians.

“Keep it down Lady Gaga,” i break into a sprint, grinning: “you’ll need the power later.” She charged after me: “I told you not to call me that!”

I laughed, trying to stay ahead.

This day went way different than i expected.

All i wanted was a calm day. Wake up, get dressed, eat, go to school, go home, play games, eat, shower, sleep. Easy as that. No rain. No explosions. Nothing.

I overslept and nearly got hit by a car on my way to school just to struggle with keeping up, followed up by the heavy rain almost keeping me away from going home. And now? I’m walking home besides a girl i’ve just met, sharing an umberella. I guess it could be worse.

After five minutes of silent walking, my mind came up with a question: “So, what class are you in? I havent seen you around exept that one time in the library.” “Im in my second year, Mrs. Nickelsons class.” she answered. I stepped over a puddle trying to keep my shoes dry: “I didnt hear a lot of good things about old Nickelson, is she really that bad?” She giggled while avoiding a puddle herself, then continued: “well, i can say that she really knows how to keep a class in line. That, and that one of my classmates can be happy that she was a few inches off.” My eyes widened: “how come?” “ her voice had i serious undertone, making it clear she wasnt joking: “Nearly lost an eye.” Well, thats shocking. “So if i ever want to became a pirate, ill just have to join your class and dork around.” I tried to hold back a grin, failing: “Even though i’d really miss my eye to be honest” She laughed: “Im serious, that old lady wouldnt think twice about it....”

We keep walking, avoiding puddles, falling into silence again, yet again, its not an uncomfortable silence. Its calm. I smile a little, and turn my head to take a peek at her face. Catching each other doing the same, we both snap back, looking straight ahead, and chuckle.

We turn the corner and she stops. We stand there for a second, silent. Then it hit me: “I think our ways part here, right?” She said it before i could, but how did she know? I blush a little, feeling stupid, forgetting about my own way home so simply: “Yeah, right, my house is right there, i think i can make it without getting too wet.” I turn to her, thinking about hugging her, but then just smiling at her: “Thanks for helping me out, you really safed me.”

Her eyes avoided mine: “Its no big deal, you can always count on me when theres rain again, ok?” Realizing her statement, she blushed. My smile grew wider: Im gonna pick you up on that offer then, you better be prepared.”

We both laughed, and i waved at her as we both departed on our seperate ways. She waved back, smiling shyly.

Walking towards my home, my mind starts to wander: I wondered about what she did when she got home, if she had any hobbies, what her interests are, and maybe, just maybe, in another dimension, she might even be interested in Me?

Finally, after what fealt like long, long minutes in the pouring rain, i walk up to my home. I collect my thoughts and reach for the handle, but freeze.

I allready hear them again, shouting at each other. Anger starts to well up inside me as i open the door. Stepping inside, it falls shut with a slam, rendering the house silent. My mothers voice rang from the kitchen: “Ethan?”

Wet, not as wet as i could have been, yet wet nonetheless, and absolutely not in the mood for their useless argument, i pass the kitchen, trying my best not to get pulled in: “Thanks for picking up the phone you two, really appriciate it.” I climb the stairs, heading for my room, slamming the door shut behind me. For a second, i remain frozen. Listening for any kind of reaction from downstairs. Deafening silence filled the house. Giving up on any kind of apology before dinner, i wander over to my bed, dropping into it, starring at the ceiling.

Again, my thoughts wander back to her. Her hair, her eyes, the way she talked, the way she walked, her humor. She was the eye of the storm that im forced to call today.

"Today just could'nt get any better, could it?"

Sitting next to one of the forgotten bycicles at our shool's bike rack, i watch the heavy rain soak the others on their way out of the school who, just like me, havent expected the rain to set in so early. The way home's about half an hour when i run, so getting home soon is literally down the drain.

I sigh, digging for my phone inside my pocket, checking if any of my protective and humble parents found the time to answer my call for help.

As expected, the inbox remained empty.

Deciding against the feeling of throwing that old thing after the next dude who looks at me wrong, i shove it back where it came from. I check the sky, to see if my silent prayers save my day. Theres no sign of an end to the liquid assault on my free time.

The only thing left for me is to sit, wait and hope that the rain subsides soon. "Just what i needed today, great, amazing..."

I sink into thoughts, drifting from reality under the sound of the drop hitting the roof, and the smell of wet pavement.

"H-Have you forgotten your umberella?" I open my eyes.

I'm pulled back the here and now, realizing that some minutes past, but the rain was still going on.

"Sorry? Are you okay?" The voice spoke again. Someone's talking to me. Here. Thats new.

With the idea of reacting to being spoken to slowly dawning on me, i raise my head to see who was talking to me:

A girl was speaking to me. Not being used to talking to the other gender, i felt like a deer in the headlights:"H-hey, are you allright? Do you need help?"

"N-no, no no, everythings fine, thanks." Speaking to her burned in my throat like that time i tried mom's wine when i was a little kid.

"Oh, good, i wasnt sure because you didnt answer..." she smiled at me, shyly: "youre Ethan, right?"

"Y-yeah, how do you know?" I take a good look at here, trying to figure out if i knew her: probably about my age, a head shorter than me, thin lips forming a toothless, shy smile on her oval face.

Then i met them: these dark green eyes, staring at me over a pair of rectangular glasses, partially covered by her darkbrown bangs. Sporting our school's uniform, tidier than i see on most other girls, she walked next to me, closed her umberella and sat down.

"And with who do i have the pleasure?" That sentence sounding a lot less stylish than it did in my brain, i cant bring myself to turn my face to her. "I believe we met me before, i sometimes help out at the library."

A picture flashed in my mind. Yes. Some weeks ago, as i brought back a few books i picked up months before, she was sitting at the desk. I remember the eyes, but not the name. Damn you brain. "Uhmmm..."

She giggled: "Its ok if you dont remember, its not like im the only person working there. Im Amy. Amy Page."

I finally found the courage to turn my head, to find hers turned to me, a little blushed, still wearing that smile.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ethan, Ethan Smith" I reached a hand over in an attempt to shake her's. She needed a second, then took my hand and shook it, pulling her hand back into her lap quickly as we were done.

And then, it followed: awkward silence.

Until it got me, i didnt feel... awkward. Sitting here with someone i just met, listening to the rain, letting some room for time to pass by, it felt... right. Fitting. Still, i didnt want her to think of me as a creep, so i broke the silence:

"Thanks for checking on me by the way." I smiled at her again. "Its... its no big deal, dont mention it. People should look out for each other, right?" She giggled, sounding a bit nervous.

I thought about it for a second, then spoke up: "You dont have a spare umberella on you, do you?"

She peeked out from under her hair, a gaze lost in thought, the becoming clear in an instant: "not really no, but..." she looked away. "But?" I poked at her, she paused for a moment: "Well...last week i saw that you need to go the same way i have to." She smiled at me, blushing again:

Closing the door to my room, sinking into my wonderful chair after another day trying to understand the gibberish my teachers have been talking, i can finally relax.

First i’ll chill a bit, then ill tend to my homework. As always. Yeah. For sure.

Pressing the power-button on my computer, i get up to retrieve the only thing thats missing: a cold can of soda.

Casually making my way down to stairs to the kitchen, i freeze.

Arguing. Accusations. Listing flaws and mistakes. I siigh:”Why are they home allready?”

I enter the kitchen and make it to the fridge unnoticed, grabing a can. Closing the fridgedoor on the other hand snaps the room into silence.

“Oh, Ethan, we didnt know you would be home allready, we-” My father interrupted my mother mid-sentence: “There you are, i need to have a talk with you.” I didnt turn to look at them: “Listen PhilI had a long day, i’m pretty sure it can wait. I’ll come down for dinner again Mom, at seven, as always i guess? Great, thanks, love ya, see you later.” Before they can react or answer, i wander out of the kitchen, back up the stairs, just to hear the accusations start again before my door closes behind me.

Since she caught him in bed with that other woman, life in this house has become hard to bear. Arguing, yelling, fighting, all day, every day. They can’t spend five minutes in the same room without stepping on each others toes about something, doenst matter how ridiculously small the subject may be.

It feels so real, as it always does. That same dream, haunting me like a ghost, like a spirit.

"Is it a dream? or maybe a memory..."

Wandering that house again, expecting things to be different, somehow changed, but they always stay the same. The living room, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the toilet and even the bathtub stayed the same.

It must be a memory, it has to be... but from where... and when...

Pacing through the rooms in the same order as always, i end up standing at that door again.

That door. The only door i cant open without waking up, Without breaking the stream. Like a child, trying to see if the light in the fridge really goes out when you close the door, no matter what i tried, it never worked. That glimpse of hope, so close to seeing the truth, yet blocked by that damn door. The answer why i return here again and again, it's behind this door, im sure of it.

So i leave it be, wandering of back into the rest of the house, poking questions at my past.

I didnt take any time to find myself lately, always spending my time with my usual duties and mundane tasks my parents bug me with.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling after another lost match of one of my games, and i question myself: “who have i become lately...”

My Name is Ethan Smith, im 16, born on the 2nd of Juni, love gaming, reading, hanging out with the few friends i have, and finally started what i wanted to do for a long time:

writing.

But i never expected it to be that hard. finding the right words, the way to put it, the view to write from... so many decisions, so many choices, and every single one of them could spoil the story, break the red line.

I drag myself into the classroom, rings under my eyes clearly showing my late night mind-adventures. I drop into my seat, leaving my bag at the side of the table, tired, hungry, yet still grinding in my thoughts on the same question, mumling it to myself “How should i write it?”

“Write what?” I jolted awake, turning quickly, looking my childhoodfriend straight in the eye: “Didnt i tell you to stop sneaking up on me Chiara?”

She smiled at me, playfully, as she always did. Chiara Hayes, the classic high school girl: Good grades, great at sports, popular with the boys and the girls becuase of her kind, helpful behaviour, not to mention her body, or her being part of a quiet popular local band. I know her since she moved into my area 12 years ago. she allready had here first guitar when my mother dragged me over to “meet the new neighbors.” Little did i know that on that day, my life would change forever.

“Dont be like that, you know that im not THAT evil.” She giggled. I smiled back at her: “You can be pretty bad when you want to, do you remember in fifth grade when you stole my bike and rode it into the river?”

She puffed her cheeks, glinting at me: “And do you remember that i fell with it? I nearly drowned...” I closed my eyes, going back to in time, back to the river, back to where i almost lost my only friend at the time.

“Sorry, i didnt mean to make you mad.” she giggled, lighting back up in her usual happiness “Its ok, its something that really bound us as best friends, right? I laughed, smiling back at her again: “I’d prefer any way without near death-situations, but i guess you’re right.”

He cursed silently, crumbling up another paper, missing the bin like the five times before.

“How in the world am i supposed to put it? How can i make them understand?”

doodling on the next page, lost in thought, he checked the clock. 2:59AM, spelled in bright red letters. Just like the days before.

“So much for going to bed earlier today...” he dropped the pen on his desk. “Im gonna try again tomorrow, maybe sleep helps to clear my mind...” Pulling himself out of his beloved, comfy, deep black office chair, he realized how tired he actually was.