Diary of a Gang Member
Author's note: This is about a girl that's had to many people die in her life, and she forget's what life really... Show full author's note »
Chapter OneAugust 3rd, 2009
I’m just so sick of it. I keep having these memories… Memories of Devin. The way his expression was when his body was thrown on the ground. The way that the man looked at me when I seen my brother dead. The way that I tried to protect Devin, but the man seemed to overpower me. It was useless. He pushed me away as if I was as light as a feather. As if I was just a speck of dust in his view. I really did try to protect him. Why doesn’t anyone see that? Sarah and Frank think that I did it on purpose. Sure I didn’t like the kid, sure we fought a lot, sure I used a lot of threats… but I never dreamed of actually hurting him. Let alone killing him! Can’t people see that it was an accident? That I tried to protect him? That it was him that attacked Devin and not me? I feel like there’s a sign over my head screaming, “Help! Depression! I need help!” and no one even gives me a second glance. Why do people ignore me? Even Austin didn’t see it. Him of all people. He’s my best friend, and he can’t even tell that I’m depressed? I didn’t mean for him to die. And I definitely didn’t mean to get attacked myself. I didn’t want to be stabbed and left to die along with Devin. I DIDN’T DO IT! Does anyone know that?
I shut the book and sat it in my vent and re-bolted the cover of it. No one can find it here. I found this place five weeks ago. I stared into the vent, imagining what it would be like to be a little mouse and be able to live in the vent. To never have to go to school or do chores and pay attention or get a job.
I sighed, knowing that it was ridiculous. I walked over to my desk and I pulled my blond hair up in a pony tail and wiped off my makeup and crawled into bed. Why does this have to happen to me? Does God realize that I’ve had enough crap happen to me in life. Jeez. I’ve seen too many death’s. Too much sadness. Too much hatred. Too much evil. Maybe I’m part of the evil. Maybe if I wasn’t here none of this would happen. No one would have had to suffer any losses. I am the reason dad died. I’m the one that told him that I had to have a friend stay over so he was driving to her house to pick her up, and bang! He runs straight into a drunk driver. I can’t see why people can be so happy if there’s so much sadness. How can people concentrate on their futures if there is no future ahead of them. My family has died off. The Bradshaw’s had been killed off. I’m the last one. Not either of my grandparents are alive. They died last year. I am the last and the only.
I looked at the clock. 2:23. Oh that’s just great! I get a whole three and a half hours to sleep. I closed my eyes and struggled to sleep. Clung to the edges of it and finally got a firm grip and fell asleep.
Beep! Beep! I opened my eyes to see a bright light shining out of my window and onto my black desk. I grabbed my alarm clock and hit off. Nothing. It won’t turn off. I shook the alarm clock. Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Shut up! I threw the alarm clock across the room and it hit the wall with a crash. Well crap. I’m gonna get hell for that. Now I have to get a new alarm clock! I sighed and got out of bed and put on my clothes, brushed my hair, and put on my makeup. I look at myself in the mirror and felt like crying. This is always what happens. I act like I’m fine and try to hide my depression usually, and I just keep paying for it. I walked down stairs and into the bathroom. I pull out my tooth brush and brush my teeth. After that, I walk out of the house, not even saying bye to Sarah and Frank.
As I grew closer and closer to my dreaded school, I could already hear the snickers of cheerleaders and chatter from the other people. I come into view and everyone already turns their backs. I don’t have to deal with this, I thought. I could turn around and walk away now. I could act like I wasn’t even here. I don’t have to watch them go on with their petty lives and thinking mines a disaster.
I glared at the backs of the people, and I seen Austin talking to Jonsie. Oh God.
Jonsie? The head cheerleader? I seen Austin look up at me and he gave me one small apologetic glance then started talking to Jonsie again. I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head and my mouth drop open. No. I definitely don’t have to do this. I turned around and walked to the bushes that were by Mrs. Dodsworth’s yard and dropped my bag in it so that no one would see it. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch them have such a happy life while all I can get is death. My mom dies from cancer, my dad dies from a drunk driver, my brother dies from a mysterious man. That’s just great. I wonder how I’m gonna die. Because it’s very possible that I die by my own hand.
I walked to my favorite ally between Nancy’s Diner and Claire’s Bouquet’s and sit on the pile of bricks. It’s so dark. So gloomy. So real. This is what real life’s like. There is no prince in shining armor. No hero to save you. No happily ever after’s. None. Real life is busy, time consuming, and sad. There is nothing happy about it. Movies are fake. No one will ever love me. I’m to real. I look at what will really happen and don’t imagine finding true love by being saved by a dragon. This isn’t a fairy tale. This is real. This is what life’s all about. Life isn’t the fairy tale endings everyone wants it to be. Life isn’t the musical that everyone wants to have. Some people never get married. Some people. Ruin their lives by one choice. Some people have to pick between two people they love dearly. Some people die young and some die old. Some are happy, while most are sad. People may not know it, but that’s because most people hide their sadness. They don’t want to draw attention to themselves. They don’t want to feel out of place. They don’t want to imagine not being loved. They don’t want to think that they are unwanted. They don’t want to imagine the horrible things that will happen to them in the future. They don’t want to live, but they don’t want to die. They want an in between. A place to go when their sad. A place to be when their scared. A place to stay when they die.
That’s when I heard the gun shot.