www.whyville.net Apr 19, 2009 Weekly Issue

Guest Writer

A Letter

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I was looking through my box of beautiful junk, when I realized just how late it really was, or should I say early. It was 5:48 AM, and I had not had any stupid sleep yet. All night my mom kept nagging me to put all of my stuff away and get some shut eye, but I couldn't be away from this stuff. No matter how much of it is junk, it's all I have left. All I have left of -- I'm sorry I can't bring myself to say it just yet. I held a cracked picture frame close to my heart. It held a picture of me when I was young.

When I was young, those were the best year of my life. I was carefree, and it really didn't matter. I didn't care if I looked bad. I didn't care if I wasn't in my brand name clothes. I didn't care, and bullies never crossed my mind. I didn't even care what bullies were.

Now, today, everything matters. I can't be careless, and do terrible in school, or my life will get no where. I can't smoke, or drink, or do any kind of drugs. If I do, my parents will send me somewhere to get better. School affects how my family will prosper in life. If I do drugs, drink, or smoke, I'll get real sick, and die. Everything matters, and even this story matters. Maybe it doesn't right now, but in the long run of life, it will eventually matter. Like I said, everything matters nowadays, and sometimes I wish I could just go back to the times when it didn't.

I placed the picture frame down into the box, and closed my shades hopefully trying to get some sleep. If I could only turn off my brain so I could sleep. Ever since it happened my head fills with too many thoughts. I go numb, and I sit there trying to figure out where I went wrong. I can't figure it out. I hate what happened, and for some reason, it's my fault. You really want to know why? I could have stopped it. What happened matters, and it always will.

I sat there in bed looking up at the partially lit rising sun which was still visible through my shade. Everything sensible went in one ear and out the other. I am for once in my life, scared. I can't stop it. I just can't . . .

Sometimes I wish life had an undo button. I wish I could go back and just make things right. I never wanted it to end this bad. If like had an undo button I would use it, just this once to go back and stop this from happening in its tracks.

I finally closed my eyes, and for the first time I felt better. I as dreaming about wonderful things, like being a millionaire with a beautiful mansion. I knew I couldn't sleep forever, but I could at least enjoy it while it lasted.


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