Open Book

Guidance

My life seems to be getting worse and worse; dad is working much more because once again we are getting tight with money, and sweet little Quinn actually has friends. Don't get me wrong here; I'm extremely happy for her that she has people who care about her. I just miss all the time we used to spend together, and I'm worried that she will end up with the bad fortune I have. I have been told by many people that I am just too over protective of her, but I feel that if I don't, who will? I just want to hide her from all of the evil in the world, but the world is an evil place and one person can't hide a delicate little girl from something so big. I really wish I could.

I feel that I'm generally pretty good in school, but I really have to work hard for it. I think it makes it easier that I have no social life; so I have all the time in the world. Although, now that we are starting to run low with the money again, I had to get a job at the local gas station. I don't enjoy it, but it makes it easier on my dad, which in turn makes it easier on Quinn and then myself. Plus, I love the feeling that I actually have a purpose, a reason, a meaning. Now that I work I have less time for school and I worry that I'm going to start to fall behind. I know lots of people are going to say that it doesn't matter all that much; but I know that once I'm out of school I'm going to work full time to help support dad and Quinn, at least until she can provide for herself.

It has only been a month of school and I'm already done with it, I just want to give up and quit but I know I can't. Today is a beautiful day; I just want to be out riding my horses and doing my school work. Instead I'm sitting in the guidance counselor's office. Why you might ask? Truthfully I don't know myself, but the principal suggested it; so I'm sure it has something to do with all of my pranks and rude behaviour. When I said that the principal 'suggested' it, just know that he enforced and demanded it. Sometimes I feel like I have no control over my own life and my own choices. I almost always feel that the world is trying to make a little army of angels, anyone standing out of place or doing something of their own choice is put down and beaten harder than the rest. We all have to be perfect and meet the standards of 'perfection.' Then they ask why we can't make decisions for ourselves and why we harm ourselves. Sometimes we think that if we punish ourselves that the punishment from everyone else will be less or even not there. I wish I could make my own decisions, but I guess not.

Anyways, the guidance counselor has been talking to me for a while; and I feel bad because I haven't been listening very much; only enough to be able to respond in a proper way. Her name is Shana and she told me at the very beginning that if my answer was "uhm" or "yahuh" or anything of the sorts she would make me stay longer. Generally she is a nice woman, but I don't want to spend more time in here than I need to.

Finally after an excruciatingly long hour, she stands up to shake my hand. She tells me I can just wait in here while she goes out to the front desk to talk with my father and make another appointment for next week. Shana keeps telling me that I'm making wonderful progress, but I don't believe a word of it, I don't believe there is anything wrong to begin with.

I think everybody is just worried because Brittany finally joined my hate club. She was the last person to stick around and actually talk to me; she was kind, but then she started to get annoyed with the fact that I never wanted to hang out with anybody. She literally told me one day that I was boring and that she couldn't just go hang out with someone else because she had a bad reputation for hanging out with me and for being my friend.

I guess it's official! The only people who truly care about me are my family. I really have no friends. I'm only in grade nine and I'm already all alone. I really don't want to leave the farm; that's where I was born and raised, all my childhood memories were made here, good or bad, it didn't matter. They were almost all with my mother. I also don't want to leave because we buried mom under her favourite old oak tree. So many people thought we were strange for laying her to rest in our yard instead of in a cemetery, but we were just following her wishes, we did what she asked of us. But on the other hand I would love a fresh start; at a school where nobody knows me and I know nobody. I would never have a hate club dedicated to me. Maybe I could make real friends; ones who truly care about me. I hope I can.

After my dad makes my next appointment we hop into the car and drive back to our house. On the way there I talk to Quinn about the new girl in her class; apparently she is really nice but Quinn doesn't think they will be very good friends. Quinn says she is just too frilly and girly. I trust her judgement and I talk to her about how you don't need everyone to like you and to be your best friend.

"Ryan..." She says with a bit of hesitance.

"Yes?" I say, I think I know where this is going.

"Is that why nobody is nice to you? Because you tried too hard to make sure everybody was your best friend?" She was starting to cry a bit. Just like I said that I look out for her; she looks out for me. We worry for each other. She understands that I have felt enormous amounts of physical and emotional pain. She is one of the only people who have ever really understood me.

I shake my head yes, "yea, it is." She got really quiet after that and reached over to hold my hand. I gently squeezed her hand in response as we pull up to the house and dad stops the truck and takes out the keys.

"Come on girls; let's go have supper." My dad called behind him as we made our way to the house.

"We're coming!" I call back. We quickly follow dad into the house and put our school bags in our rooms. The two of us meet him in the kitchen and help him set the table and sit down to eat. After we are done eating and doing the dishes I ask to be excused and head upstairs to study for a math test I have the next morning. Eventually it's lights out and I pass out on my bed, dreading the next day.