I walked into my new school, eyes cast downwards, not wanting to see anyone. I was sent here, to Black Rose Boarding School for the Emotionally Disturbed, by my twin brother Darryl, or Darry, we called him. He was scared I was an emotional train wreck. But I wasn’t, I knew exactly what I wanted. To die. It’s a simple request really, he was just being selfish. Dallas and Johnny were dead, so were mom and dad. Couldn’t he just let me go? I wished to be with them all, Mother, Daddy, Dallas, and little Johnny. It was a living hell being alone here. And he made it worse by sending me here. Where I was hopelessly alone, here where I was surrounded by people who wouldn’t understand the hell I feel no matter how well trained they were.
I walked down the deserted hallway, my eyes glued to the floor. I had no desire to look at anyone. I fumbled with my guitar case on my back, my piano keyboard tucked under one arm, my laptop my brother bought me 4 years ago and my suitcase. The sound of my thick soloed shoes walking down the cold hard tile was the only sound heard in the eggshell white hall. Slowly I came upon dorm 6, where I was to rot for the next year. I took my key from my pocket I had so stealthily stashed there, and unlocked it. Inside it was like a white washout, the entire place was white. The desk, bed frame, mattress, dresser, walls, carpeting, mini fridge and the entire bathroom was white. I sighed and set my laptop on the desk; my keyboard on its little built in stand, dropped my suite case and set my guitar in the corner. This place is so dull; it would make a nun cry. Still, I got to work, making my bed with my black silk like sheets and lavender cotton pillows. It didn’t do much, but at least it didn’t make the room so dull. What was there? A boring sale? I inwardly groaned. It would take hours of work to make this place nice. Despite my recent lifestyle I was still the colorful girl that I was 6 months ago. I looked over at my guitar and saw my E string was broken. ********. Now I needed a new one before I could compose on it again. Great and I had just finished my piano piece so I couldn’t there, and classes hadn’t started up yet so the saxophone wasn’t an option. Get on that laptop of mine and IM Darry? No, I was so mad at him for taking me away from what little happiness I had. If he wanted me to get “better” he should try and keep me as close to what little friends and family I had left.
Friends…family….Johnny…Dallas…mom…daddy, the people I loved and wanted back in my life that had been so cruelly taken. It made my breath come out in short, shallow gasps. I sat down on my bead and pulled my knees up to my chest, rocking back and forth, trying to calm my nerves. I wanted my brother, I wanted my room, my friends and I wanted my old life back 6 months ago. Nothing will make me better dear brother, especially this! I thought desperately. Rocking back and forth helped me none, so I began pacing, chewing my nails. Then the thought struck me, a book! Yes a book would help take my mind away from my stress. So I grabbed my notebook and pen from my suitcase and walked out my dorm to the library, praying to mercy that I would find my distraction.
Again I walked down those empty white walls. Only this time, it wasn’t so empty. There was a boy, about 15, being pushed in a wheelchair, wherein a straightjacket, an expression on his face that told me he was hopped out on some sort of behavioral drug. No! I don’t belong here! I’m not one of these people! I thought desperately, quickening my pace. The library was behind two thick, highly polished oak wood doors, a nice contrast between the dreary hallways. The library itself was a large warm cozy room, with thick green carpet, polished oak book cases and large comfortable arm chairs. This confused me. Why have such a nice room, but dreary depressing halls and dorms? It made no since if you asked me. Still I was here for the book to take my mind away from home, so I set to work. There were many books I thought of reading. S.E Hinton’s The Outsiders, The Diary of Anne Frank, or even just some Robert Frost poems. But I was looking to get away. The Outsiders was my favorite book, I even watched the movie so many times I could quote it word for word even today. And the names Johnny Darry and Dallas were in it. It was a bitter irony, really. In that book Johnny was killed and Dallas was so distraught he got himself killed. Just like my life. Defiantly not. The Diary of Anne Frank we read it in 8th grade, I remember cus Dallas told me he thought the chick playing Anne Frank in the movie was hot, Ewww. That still annoyed me today. Robert frost poems? Daddy use to read those to me when I had trouble sleeping. Hell no. I walked out of the library with the novel by Anne Rice Interview with the Vampire I use to love this when I was 14 and suspended. I loved to just go outside and read a book. I got a little lost in the maze like hallways, but I did find my way eventually
I walked down the deserted hallway, my eyes glued to the floor. I had no desire to look at anyone. I fumbled with my guitar case on my back, my piano keyboard tucked under one arm, my laptop my brother bought me 4 years ago and my suitcase. The sound of my thick soloed shoes walking down the cold hard tile was the only sound heard in the eggshell white hall. Slowly I came upon dorm 6, where I was to rot for the next year. I took my key from my pocket I had so stealthily stashed there, and unlocked it. Inside it was like a white washout, the entire place was white. The desk, bed frame, mattress, dresser, walls, carpeting, mini fridge and the entire bathroom was white. I sighed and set my laptop on the desk; my keyboard on its little built in stand, dropped my suite case and set my guitar in the corner. This place is so dull; it would make a nun cry. Still, I got to work, making my bed with my black silk like sheets and lavender cotton pillows. It didn’t do much, but at least it didn’t make the room so dull. What was there? A boring sale? I inwardly groaned. It would take hours of work to make this place nice. Despite my recent lifestyle I was still the colorful girl that I was 6 months ago. I looked over at my guitar and saw my E string was broken. ********. Now I needed a new one before I could compose on it again. Great and I had just finished my piano piece so I couldn’t there, and classes hadn’t started up yet so the saxophone wasn’t an option. Get on that laptop of mine and IM Darry? No, I was so mad at him for taking me away from what little happiness I had. If he wanted me to get “better” he should try and keep me as close to what little friends and family I had left.
Friends…family….Johnny…Dallas…mom…daddy, the people I loved and wanted back in my life that had been so cruelly taken. It made my breath come out in short, shallow gasps. I sat down on my bead and pulled my knees up to my chest, rocking back and forth, trying to calm my nerves. I wanted my brother, I wanted my room, my friends and I wanted my old life back 6 months ago. Nothing will make me better dear brother, especially this! I thought desperately. Rocking back and forth helped me none, so I began pacing, chewing my nails. Then the thought struck me, a book! Yes a book would help take my mind away from my stress. So I grabbed my notebook and pen from my suitcase and walked out my dorm to the library, praying to mercy that I would find my distraction.
Again I walked down those empty white walls. Only this time, it wasn’t so empty. There was a boy, about 15, being pushed in a wheelchair, wherein a straightjacket, an expression on his face that told me he was hopped out on some sort of behavioral drug. No! I don’t belong here! I’m not one of these people! I thought desperately, quickening my pace. The library was behind two thick, highly polished oak wood doors, a nice contrast between the dreary hallways. The library itself was a large warm cozy room, with thick green carpet, polished oak book cases and large comfortable arm chairs. This confused me. Why have such a nice room, but dreary depressing halls and dorms? It made no since if you asked me. Still I was here for the book to take my mind away from home, so I set to work. There were many books I thought of reading. S.E Hinton’s The Outsiders, The Diary of Anne Frank, or even just some Robert Frost poems. But I was looking to get away. The Outsiders was my favorite book, I even watched the movie so many times I could quote it word for word even today. And the names Johnny Darry and Dallas were in it. It was a bitter irony, really. In that book Johnny was killed and Dallas was so distraught he got himself killed. Just like my life. Defiantly not. The Diary of Anne Frank we read it in 8th grade, I remember cus Dallas told me he thought the chick playing Anne Frank in the movie was hot, Ewww. That still annoyed me today. Robert frost poems? Daddy use to read those to me when I had trouble sleeping. Hell no. I walked out of the library with the novel by Anne Rice Interview with the Vampire I use to love this when I was 14 and suspended. I loved to just go outside and read a book. I got a little lost in the maze like hallways, but I did find my way eventually
