Perspectives

6. Hero

He was sitting next to me and all I could think to do was say something.  This was weird, because I normally don't like talking.  But with Nahuel, I wanted to talk to him.

"See," I said, "I told you you'd make me late." I laughed.  He looked at me apologetically.

"Sorry, Hero," he said.

"Oh, no," I said, "It's okay."  We held a conversation and I left PE confidently.  I walked home and sat inside my room, happily writing in my journal.  

Maybe, Nahuel could be my boyfriend someday.  Maybe then, we could double date with Claire and Drew.  I was so happy.  I might actually have a chance.  I thought I was in love.  But that would be stupid.  I was thirteen.  How could I be in love already?

The door opened.  My mother was home.  I went downstairs.  She walked into the hallway and screamed my name.

"Hero!"

"That's me," I said.

"Are you being smart with me?"

"Not intentionally ma'am."

"Well then I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

"I intend to."

"Get out of here." she said, walking to the kitchen, "Go to your room."

"I'll get out of here," I muttered under my breath, "gladly." I walked to my room.  I sat down and my wrist itched.  

i wanted to cut it.  

I needed to cut it.  

I couldn't cut it.  

I wouldn't cut it.

I needed something to get my mind off the longing.  I remembered my English assignment.  We were to write a letter to our future selves.  I walked over to my journal and wrote the letter.  I poured out everything I was feeling.  I have always been good at writing.  it was a skill that portrayed itself to be true upon my gift.  I didn't even need to think about it.  The words just poured around in my mind and came onto the paper through a fluid motion of my hand.  

Dear Hero,

Maybe by the time you read this, things will be better.  Right now, I can't seem to find a way to be true to who I am.  I can't seem to find a way to do anything.  I feel wrong when I am doing something right.  I feel like I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time saying the wrong things.  I miss having no worries.  It's hard to believe that there was once a time when I had no worries.  But I know that there was once a time.  Before Dad died, things were alright.  I didn't have to constantly be afraid.  Depression wasn't as bad for me as it is now.  I can't be who I am because I have become a different person.  I don't even know what I've become.  This new person isn't at all like what I used to be and I want to be right.  I just want to be right.

Mom is getting worse.  Her smoking has made her voice turn into a disgusting croak.  It's hard to say "I love you" when she never says it anymore.  I feel like she hates me now.  She thinks that every time I talk, I'm being smart with her.  I can't become who I am with her always treating me this way.  I hardly ever believe that I loved her.  Was there ever a time when she was nice to me?  Even when Dad was here, she was still mean to all of us.  She was rude to dad and never listened to me or treated me nicely.  I never feel like I can be myself anymore.

There's one exception to that.  i met a boy named Nahuel Casteñedas and he makes me feel happy.  I am finally happy.  He makes me feel like it is easy to be myself.  He makes me smile and everything's not all bad.  He makes me go home happy.  I can face my mom now because I'm still in that mood from school.  Even though he's only been at our school for a couple days, I have learned to look foward to seeing him every day just before I go to school.  I look forward to seeing him and I can't wait to talk to him.  I want to tell him all about my life.  My crazy twisted life.