January 19, 2008
By Jane Hinsenkamp BRONZE, Traverse City, Michigan
Jane Hinsenkamp BRONZE, Traverse City, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

"I'm drowning," she says.
"Help me!"
But I don't,
I can't.

They blamed me,
everyone did.
My parents wouldn't look at me,
not for weeks.

"I didn't do it!"
I want to scream.
"Its not my fault!"
The words are trapped inside me.

"What happened?" the counselor asks.
I wish I could say.
She'd been drinking,
we'd been drinking.

They look at me,
those kids in the hall.
They think they know me;
they think that they can judge me.

When they came,
she was already gone.
The flashing lights took her naked body away.

"Lets go swimming," she slurs.
I stumble after,
knowing already -
I won't go in.

The dive from the pier -
ten feet into cold black water.
She smiles at me
and jumps.

They blame me,
I know they do.
Even after I explain -
the alcohol.

I look at the sky,
the moon,
and the stars.
I set her picture next to my clothes.

I take a running start.
And sink.

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