The Life Of Aaron Prescott

[1] History Sucks

The Life of Aaron Prescott

Journal Entry One; July 21st

I've always wondered what's wrong with me. My laugh, my hair or my smile? I've been trying this whole year to seem normal, perfect for him. But nothing ever works.

It could be how much I look like her. My brown hair, my blue eyes, my personality. Everything about me is shaped by her and what she has taught me. I thought she had taught my dad that as well, but I guess I was wrong.

Today was my birthday, today I turned eight. I received cards from mom's family with happy birthday wishes and some loose ten- or twenty-dollar bills.

My Uncle Aaron always finds some way to throw a joke into my birthday cards, and this year he added a notebook. Something he learned about in therapy. He called my notebook a grief journal, but I think it's just a cool, blue notebook with a black pen.

Today was my birthday, and I got no gifts from my dad. He was asleep most of the day anyways, and I didn't mind that. He isn't much happier awake anyways.

After mom died, he's never been happy. He's never played catch with me since either.

I hope I can do better. I hope I can figure out what's wrong with me.

A A R O N

History class had to be the worst subject I would ever need to learn. The chairs in Mr. Jones room were more uncomfortable than his weird stares every time I would move around in my seat.

I just kept watching the bell tick and tick and tick, another minute goes by. Tick, tick, tick, another. The first day of senior year. This is the day I have been waiting for ever since I was eight.

"Aaron," Ryan's voice rings in my ears. Is he high? Again. I let the pencil I had been writing on my desk with for the past fifty-seven minutes fall onto the desk before looking over to my obnoxious best-friend.

Ryan Perez, another teenage boy like myself that is just trying to get through high school. He gets on my nerves, but he's been here through thick and thin. I owe a lot in my life to him, and his parents.

Ryan's parents, Mrs. And Mr. Perez are probably one of the richest families known in our little high school. Ryan's father owns a law firm and Ryan's mother is a judge. Making Ryan to be an heir to millions and pushed into going to law school, even if he can barely get a D in English.

Ryan flashes me a toothy grin, swiping a hand through his dirty blonde hair and rubbing a hand down his tanned skin. Ryan's parents were also Latino. Ryan's father had moved here from Brazil with Ryan's mother almost right after they had gotten married.

"Isn't this class excruciating," Ryan says, exasperated. I laugh at my best friend, my fingers itching at my pencil.

"Yeah," I agree. "I still don't understand how one man's voice can be so boring."

Ryan throws his hands up, causing Mr. Jones to look over at us. Ryan being who Ryan is, can just smile and wave to make Mr. Jones shake in his tiny shoes.

Ryan's parents might have also chipped in money behind everyone's backs so that Ryan doesn't get expelled for coming into school wasted, high, etc. Not that no one knows it, though Ryan makes it more than obvious. Caleb Winters also had gotten suspended last week for doing the exact same stuff Ryan does on a daily basis, so it isn't much of a secret.

The Perez's are too rich and have too much power for any parents to come after them anyways.

"I can't wait until I can have my parties again," Ryan begins again, turning towards the board in his seat. "My parents are going out of town soon." Ryan raises his eyebrows suggestively at me.