As I walk among these people and I think to myself how many are just followers. Me? Well I prefer to express myself that is why this God gave us our lives right? Or was it just to follow other people? Maybe just in religion, but upon other things I don't think that's why he's made so many people so that they want to be just the same. I guess we were all made for certain reasons, take it for example Paul McLauchlan came here on this messed up world to teach others. Sure people might've thought he was a bad influence due to his mistakes that could've been changed, but no one lives a perfect life.
Well any ways my name is Rachelle Wells. Not a common name I suppose but why I am here telling you this well maybe because I'm dead.
I walked around the corridor and suddenly I found myself in this dark place, with hall ways, peaceful. I suppose scary but nothing more scary nor peaceful than my daily life. Sure I might've been not starving or was ill or was homeless. But the scary thing to me is of how I was now becoming a living dead bittersweet girl. Each day I was becoming more and more negative sure it kills me when, shall I say, I have to be more independent than usual. But really I've been learning to get over that because I've learned that no mater what I wont ever find a person that could be so compassionate for me. I guess I'm more discreet than the other people. I mean sure id love to be a rebel or a revolutionary person but lets face it I was only 16 and a half when I died. I sure could've been the next stupid girl version of Paul MacLauchlan. But what makes him so special? Well maybe that he didn't plan on being famous yet he began one of the biggest bands the worlds ever seen and will ever see.
Say I tried to be the next him, but that means id have to want to become famous and lets face it who doesn't want to? The only thing that's stopping most of us is the fucking baggage that comes along with it.
Well the thing that scared me is that I wanted to find myself face to face with my Father. Of course fucking not my biological father but my spiritual father. I no longer laughed and desired the applauses and crap that people say when I have something good to show or say. I wanted to be left alone and I sure was but I guess while I was alone I wanted to know that people wanted me back. Jesus?! What a sensitive little girl! But I know there's people like me out there they're just ashamed and I sure am too but what do I have to say now that I'm dead. Sure you'd want to know why I'm dead.
Why I don't I start with all the shit first? Well it all started in the summer when I was depressed my 10th grade summer. I started listening to Anavrin. I became interested and started looking into the death of Paul McLauchlan , my soon to be idol. August 23, that's when I got my book, his book, his death. Well sure his wife might've killed him, but no one will ever know. Well I started becoming more of an analyzer I got onto FRIENDS the social media that was popular at the time, I searched for my dog. Found him! Of course with another girl, problem was he went on a trip with her that he supposedly called it a business trip while he was still living with us sleeping with my mother. Well I told my mother and she and I stopped talking to him. They were already separated , good thing. If you still haven't figured out who the dog is, well lets just say he's my so called Father. July 29, school started finally in 11thgrade finally growing up even though I knew that life is hard, but that didn't matter all I wanted was to be in charge of my own life no ridicule. Started out normally, my stupid friend there next to me the only reason I kept talking to her is because well we're both lions and we'd make each other laugh more than other people can. I thought life itself was hopeless. Mine as well as the rest of these assholes. Until I walked into my 8th period class I had seen the most beautiful thing in my life besides Paul McLauchlan. His name was Ken Wolf . I stared at him for about a week, and it wasn't a lame cliché crush feeling, more curiosity, than looks and temptation. He was actually kind of anti-social like myself, that is also another reason as why I had an interest in his life and background. The ironic thing is that he had been in that same school for three years like me and I had never ever noticed him. Another irony is that he really had the appearance of Paul McLauchlan . I really wasn't a so called fan girl and drooled over Paul. I had a fairly huge impact on his life and his music rather than his looks. Looking at Ken was fascinating to me, and I couldn't wait to talk to him and get to know him. Finally one day the teacher decided to move him to my table along with one of my acquaintances. He was a really quiet kid but I clearly stated who I thought he looked like and he had no idea who that was. Right Away I could see that he bonded with me, I also noticed that something was different about him and I thought it was something medical because well if your speaking about being different we all are different. I didn't want to sound mean and ask him if something was wrong with him. We kept on talking for about two weeks straight, we would even get in trouble for talking too much,. My so called "friend" was even also feeling, I guess, departed. I didn't care because I loved knowing more and more things about him as we spoke. One night while I was sitting there in my room ready to go to sleep with a waterfall of thoughts, I realized he had probably more things in common to Paul than anyone in the school. Right away in the mornings I would wake up with the thought of Ken and Paul I couldn't even distinguish them apart anymore. I couldn't wait till' my 8th period when I had him, he would always manage to make my day a million times better. This one beautiful chilly day getting closer to November he, Ken, asked me if I had a pencil I could lend him. Lets just say that I was going through a rough time with money and such. So I gave him the first pencil I saw at the bottom of my book bag. It was one of those crappy pencils with the paper around it, the one you can peel off. So he used it for the day and blah blah, end of day. While I was going home I started thinking of him and recalled him telling me he had written something on the pencil. I took out the pink pencil I lent him and the paper was poorly peeled but in the white wooden part of the pencil read " I really like you..". I started freaking out my mother already knew about this boy and I was hyperventilating tremendously. Keep in mind that in the weeks before this amazing moment we were already handing each other notes during class time. We would flirt with each other and ask each other personal things. No, not hey so what's your bra size kind of bullshit. We would tell each other meaningful things about our past, the way we thought, our interest, and same old chit chatter of course.
The next day I went to school ready to face anything Ken might do. I sat down as usual and my table mates were staring at me awkwardly, more than usual. I asked them what was going on they said Billy had just told them that he liked me a lot and if they knew whom I liked. I told them that it was none of their business. They respected my opinion and when Ken sat down I asked him if he really did like me. He reassured me that he had never felt that sort of way. I told him I felt the same way towards him. Later throughout the class he sent me a terribly small and poorly written note asking me if I wanted to be his girl. I told him I wanted to get to know him better but in reality I was going to say yes. He was 17 and he drove a Nissan Rouge SUV. I asked my mother to let me hang out with my best friend at the time, Leigh. She right away said yes however what I was really gonna do was go out with Ken in his car and go somewhere rad. He decided to take me to get some cheese fingers from this little restaurant after we went to buy them through drive-thru he took me to this beautiful view where we could see the shitty small city we lived in. It didn't look as shitty as it was. He showed me the music he liked and our music taste was so alike except for the fact that I liked a few satanic bands. He was so beautiful . He pulled on the lever to lower his seat in to a bed like position. I just stared at him while The Growlers played in the background. He said in a gentle voice "why don't you put your seat down?' I did as he implied. We were now at the same angle, me, staring at his beautiful large blue eyes. Him, staring at me in the way every girl wants to be looked at by a boy. He grabbed my bangs the side of my hair and tucked the strand of hair behind my ear. I thought to myself oh dear he's going to kiss me! I kept my cool but as all those thoughts were bouncing around my head, he commences to caress my face then moves down to my lips and touches the mole right below my lips on the left side. He then says " I really like this." and I give out a slight giggle and ask "why?". He says " I don't know it really brings your pretty face together.". We kept looking at each other like we were about to kiss. It was 6:30 and one of his friends called and asked where he was and what he was doing. Ken said " im just here chilling with that girl." I thought "hmm that girl?". His friend asked to talk to me and Ken passed me his cell phone I answered "hello." his friend said " hey so do you like my friend" and I answered "yes I do why?". "oh he probably does too *slightly chuckles*." . I gave Ken his phone and they continued talking about just regular chit chat. Ken then said "yeah man like around 7 okay?" "Okay bye dude.". the phone was down and so was my self esteem. I don't know why but at that moment I felt Ken didn't like me. We didn't kiss we caressed each others hair and had intimate conversations while touching each others arms. He took me home. The day was done my mom spilled it out of me to tell her that I was with him not Leigh.
Ken and I continued texting and one day I really missed him and womaned up to ask him to hang out. He said "I thought you'd never ask, sure, when?" I said tomorrow?" he answered yes. I'll never forget that day, February 6. It was a Friday and I told my mom I would hang out with Leigh again. She said sure. He picked me up at school and we drove off he took out a container where you put camera film in and I knew what was in it, though I acted like I didn't. it was cannabis inside, mmm my favorite plant. He said "do you know what this is?" I said 'umm I think so..." he said "what do you think it is?" I said "Weed?". he gave me a smirk and said yeah. He said lets go buy some apples from target to use them as a pipe. (On our way The Black Keys Too Afraid To Love You played) I said sure on our way there we talked about our day and experiences with weed. We got to the store and it was quite amazing. We both called each other pretty and he kept looking deep into my eyes saying "you're so pretty". I was feeling immense happiness. He drove me out to a nearby desert, still looking at a view. We did the cannabis very calmly giving each other turns. After the effects got to our brain he says "come here" me being the dumb fuck I say retardedly "why?" He says "just come please" we were already only separated by 4 feet of the deserty sand. As I go over he extends his arms leaning in for a hug. We start hugging each other. Our mouths filled with cotton. Hugging while the weather is chilly but not too bad. He mumbles if I want to cuddle I say "what?". He let's go of our warm hug and opens the door to the back of his car. We both lay there next to a water bottle he had drank days ago. His head on my chest and stomach. Him holding on to me as a child holds on to his mother on chilly nights. Me, playing with his soft brown hair. After 15 or so minutes of laying in each others arms and silence with rad music in the background, he positions himself to where we were staring at each others faces. Its as if I relived the moment of my very first kiss. Thrilled and terrified, him on top of me, his beautiful big blue eyes staring at me. He puckers his lips and kisses me. I felt my heart skip a beat, my blood stop flowing, my lungs stop breathing and a sudden stop in feeling anything. He stays there on top of me smelling the aroma of my body. As he crawls up my shirt and feels my back and neck. He puts his fingers under my bra from the back. At this point I cannot comprehend whether I'm dreaming or still living. He slides his skinny boney hands down to my breasts. I breathe heavily , a sort of amateur breath. I then start to touch his body, his chest and back. I pull him closer to my body. Where I can see him become excited. I don't know how far down I should go he doesn't stop me but just as I'm almost there, his hand moves down my skirt. He gently strokes my butt. I knew I didn't want anything to happen, but it happened and I'll never forget how perfect everything was. I need wanted a cliché story. A bed with lit candles and rose petals, that's not me.
The effect weed gave me was surprisingly similar to death. A happy careless feeling. Death was not frightening it was only the way you died that was frightful. My father, my own dad, murdered me. After he mentally drained me and I could no longer cry he still decided to kill me. Me, the daughter whom he always wanted, the daughter whom would make him happy on his worst days, the daughter who loved him eternally. Why? I'll never know. Right now I sit in the porch of the house I grew up in. Looking at my surroundings, though my surroundings can't see me. I've seen a few others like me but right now is not the time to socialize.
