Different colored minds

A cacophony of decisions

STEVEN POV

I slam the door of my car. I jam in the key. For as long as I've lived ive been his friend. For all this time I've been following him. For once, for just once, I wanted him to do the same for me. But I guess that's what makes him better than me. He doesn't care. That's what makes him better. The inability to care. My car is zooming down the road. I'm looking for my spot. I turn in on the side of the road next to the cornfields. I slam the car into park. Then I pull out my bubbler. I need a smoke.

I exhale. My eyes look around at the world. It's so peaceful out here. Beyond my parents. Beyond my friendship with joe. Senior Year. Team Expectations. It's too much to think about up close, but here when I'm far away, it's all I can think about.

The whole team wanted him to be captain. It was unanimous. Everyone wanted to party with him. He was charming and confident. He was my hero and my best friend and he's not the same. Now, he's just human. I look at the cushioned ceiling of my car. When I get out of this place I'm getting myself a classic car and working on it all day and night. I'll be free of all of this. Everything. I close my eyes, lending my ears to the swaying corn plants in the field. When I get out of here I can finally just be me.

The sun is beginning to melt into the field now, pinks and oranges flooding my view. I strike my thumb against my lighter and watch the flames engulf the greens at the top. I inhale simultaneously, clouds form inside the glass below and then I let the clouds hit the back of my throat. I can feel the sense of peace washing over me. I just have to think of a way to do this. I can't let the team down. I can't let my parents down. I can't let myself down. So I just have to figure out what to do.

If I could just get advice from Joe... but not even being high is enough for me to really think that one through. I'm losing my best friend. I felt the click tonight. I saw the light leave his eyes. I'm alone. I put my lips to the mouthpiece and inhale again.

I can do this.

I have to do this.

I can't give up now.

If I need to be the captain of the football team there has to be someone that knows how to lead well. Maybe someone that's led for a long time.... I can find someone at the party who is more like joe. Someone who can band people together. Not me, I'm not a leader. And as for my parents... they'll be proud of me when I show them how successful I am. Once I've made it through this shitty mess it will all be okay.

I take another rip.

And as for school, I can do it. This is my last year. I can use my cart during class. I just can't get caught yet. Maybe in a few years I can look back at this and tell everyone I succeeded because I smoke weed, but somehow all I can see is how much hurt I'll be causing. No matter how much I want my parents to believe me, I don't think they're capable of it. I don't think they'll ever be capable of understanding me. But I've known that for a long time now, that they'll never understand me. It's not really all that depressing that I'm alone, my parents would say I have God... but I don't know how to believe in Him the right way because every time I talk to him, or read His word, I never come back with the same angry person they do. I always see him as kind. If sober minded is really that important, wouldn't that mean I'm more sober minded when I'm high? when I'm the world's view of sober I don't think through consequences, I'm not present, and I never feel like I'm succeeding. I feel drunk and incapable of completing tasks without the weed. But I can't tell anyone that I feel that way. They'll say it doesn't work like that. Then They'll write me off as heretical. And then I'll be the sinner who can't focus in class, who's grades are slipping, and now they can't can't up. I know them. I know how that would go. It would be the end for me. This way of saving me will kill me.

I take a rip and blow the curling smoke out of the window.

Why can't life just be easy?

And then I think to myself, it is simple enough. This all seems simple enough. I was fine before. I had a great friendship. And then he lost his leg. I watched it happen. I heard his bones crack. I heard his body break. And when the rubble settled I was the first to try and pull him out. I saw his mangled leg like meat on sale in the market. He was white as a sheet. And he just looked at me. That was when. When I reached out my hand and he laid back and said he couldn't get up.
I already knew that deep inside as the medics pushed me away. But I just wanted his hand. I wanted to make sure he was okay. He didn't want help. He didn't want me at all. He died that night with his leg. And I held on to some stupid dream that one day he would come back. He would be back. I was so stupid. I am so stupid.
He's never coming back. My best friend is gone and I need to grow up and shoulder this like a man. I need to suck it up and not care. I need to be stronger and be able to take the shit that comes my way. But how? How can I? When it's all around me all day long. I can't escape growing up. And then one day I'll have a family. And I'll be the only one that they can depend on. I don't have time to be a kid. I've never had time to be a kid. And I never will.