Euphoria's Story | Teen Ink

Euphoria's Story

July 1, 2013
By Zeeny PLATINUM, Staten Island, New York
Zeeny PLATINUM, Staten Island, New York
37 articles 0 photos 11 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When someone truly cares about you, they make an effort not an excuse"

January 6, 2010 11:30 P.M.

My name is Euphoria and I died at the age 16.

So many things are roaming through my mind fright now. All these things impossible to answer. I am 16 with HIV.
What will I do now?
What will my parents think?
What will my friends think?
What will-
In addition, it hurts to say this
What will my school think?
That I am a disgusting girl who no one should sit next to. I look at my reflection now and tears brim my eyes. That party was not a good idea. Jessie hates me. I knew it since she was the one who left me at the party to come home alone walking 6 miles. Becoming Jessie’s friend was a mistake. Going to the party was a huge mistake. I dressed up and left home at night around two just to party. I should have called in sick. Made up an excuse. However, no I was dumb not too. Talking to Jared was a mistake.

January 7, 2012 2:30 P.M.

I am on my way home from school when it happened. Jared and his friends called me sick and harsh stuff. I clutched my textbooks and walk away. I turn to Jared and yell ‘Why are you acting different now? You acted different at the party. Do your friends know what you did to me? Do they know you have HIV? Now about to get AIDS too’. They all grow quiet and Jared literally picks me up and throws me against the wall. He kicks me on the face and leaves. Bruised and ready to piss my pants, I walk home. Mom looks at me and asked me what happened. I break out crying and tell her everything. She looks at me quietly and then locks herself in her room. I go to my room and look at my new high school yearbook. Their I am. All happy, cheerleader, head leader, and awesome stunt girl. I touch the picture of me on top of the cheerleader pyramid, Jessie and Robyn holding my feet. My face proud and high up. Then I thought no one could shatter my heart. I was too awesome for my friends not to hurt me. How wrong I was. Tears streak the picture and I wish it would sizzle away my face all-smiling. I turn the page and face the graduate page. I leaf through pausing on Jessie’s picture. Red hair so beautiful and melting green eyes. She was cute in this picture. My sister, my friend, my best friend, my life. I remember this picture. She wore a royal blue dress and stilettos. Her hair is bouncy curls. Then there is It’s (as I am calling Jared now) picture. Golden curls and silver eyes. Deep cheek dimples and football player. Schools’ favorite spirit. I take out my Sharpie and scribble over his and Jessie’s picture. My sobs increasing, my breath raspy, my hand trembling from the strength. The page is ruined.

February 1, 2010 12:00 A.M.

I feel weak as though a light flickering on and off fast. My HIV is worsening and my heartbeats slower day by day…until no more. I have seen special doctors…but they said it is too late for drugs. I will not survive more then a month. My mom and dad crumbled as my heart did. Like a tossed paper, I was thrown around until I soaked with the rain ready to toss again. Or maybe not. Maybe this time I really will not be tossed around. Maybe this time…the rain will soak me so much that with the gentle touch I will tear…unable to mend. I pray now…day and night, for those who get in Jared’s hand, to run as fast as they can. The other day dad came to me.
“Euphoria, you know we love you right. We will help you fight this. We won’t lose you,” he said
“Don’t make promises, father. Even promises get shattered with the softest tornado.” I whisper as I stroke a dove bird in my hands
He holds my hand “Your mom and I are willing to take every risk to get that jerk in jail. He hurt my angel”
“You won’t get too. People will protest. Do not hurt yourself. Please dad don’t,” I plead as tears once again streak down
“Hush daughter. I can’t lose you like I lost your brother,” he said crying
My brother was 21 when a bunch of people ad him went skydiving. When he jumped off, he did not know they unhooked his parachute and when he tried to open it, it fell off and he fell down fast and hard.
“Father, tell Robyn I loved her. She was an angel to me” I said my voice shaking.
“Don’t say that! You won’t die! I won’t let you slips from my arms too” Dad cried full force now and I did too
“I shouldn't have gone to that party! I should have stayed home…like a good girl! Look what happened. I am only 16, father and I’m dieing already? How could Jessie be so cruel? She told me that I was a good friend. She stayed with us the day Christopher (my brother) died,” I shrieked “Like leaves I will blow away and the strongest wind won’t get to catch me. I will be a shattered tear, a broken record, a girl with no love, a girl…with HIV”
“Have faith Euphoria. You will survive this disease” dad confronted me
I shook my head “I won’t. Just you see”

February 10, 2010 4:00 A.M.

“I need a syringe for patient 4”
“Call Dr. Joe”
“Get me an IV”
“Patient name is Euphoria Elbe Smith. Age is 16. HIV patient.”
“Heart is lowering”
“Dr. Joe should I try the electric pump?”
“Go ahead”
“Heart stopped…heart beating once-gone again”
“Get me her file papers”
What are they saying? Are they singing something? Where is mom? Where is dad? Is that Christopher I see? No, it’s just dad. But it was Christopher. I could swear it. Can’t feel myself. My arm will not move. What’s happening? God save me. Water, I need water. My throat is to dry. No, take the water away. What’s going on? I hear a scream. Is that mom? Why is she screaming? I’m just sleeping. Or-
“Open your eyes Euphoria” a voice spoke
So familiar, a soft voice that soothed me as a young girl
I open my eyes and see chestnut-brown hair like mine but curly and rainy gray eyes like mine as well. The face was one he wore whenever something bad happened; furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw and keen look.
“Christopher?” I whisper
My brother strokes my cheek and a tear falls down his sweet angelic face “My Euphoria, my lovely sister”
“What’s going on?” I asked
His lip trembles and I sort of got what was going on
I whisper the word and he slowly nods his body shaking.

February 11, 2010 3:40 A.M.

I am sure you are confused right now. But if your mom or dad reading my diary well you know, my secrets and my small imaginary land stuck in my head. No one gets second chances to do anything, which is why there is always a ‘what if’ in front of it. To make you feel comfortable or to be creative. To make you feel as though you are always right. Not everyone is though. You cannot be always right, right? If you make a mistake and then you know, it is wrong you can’t change it. Consequences are beyond a human’s power that is why they always say think twice before doing something. If I thought twice, maybe I would not have gotten HIV, I would not have gone to Jessie’s party, and mom and dad would not have been at my funeral right now. They would not have to face seeing my casket lowered to the ground. No high school prom for me, no 17th birthday for me, no marriage, no kids. Just me in Heaven with Christopher. I wonder what life would have been like if, I survived with HIV, what would I do? Give speeches to young kids? I do not know. Mom and dad will both be on my side the whole time. Jared is in jail so is Jessie. Seven years both. Please do not hate me now mommy and daddy. Don’t cry or weep. For I am worry free. In a place, I will see you soon. Like a rose, I believe I have blossomed. I will get drenched with rain, but this tossed paper ball is too strong for your power. No matter how hard you throw it, where you throw it, it’ll come bouncing right back and you will have to start all…over….again.


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