Monday, May 13, 2002 | 9:08 p.m.
OKAY I can talk about it now, I think.

stop reading now if you're sensitive.

I think it all started with Andrew coming home. Andrew is my long lost friend from middle school. We were superclose, and you wouldn't think two people could be so close so young, but we were. It probably had something to do with everything that we went through.

James was my "little brother" and Andrew was close to Andrya; Andrew and I were best friends. Timothy Reed was Andrew's childhood friend, and he was a friend of mine because his dad hung out with my best girlfriend's dad (Mittie)...

The day James died, I was wearing a red shirt and khaki pants, nike tennis shoes, and my hair was in a pony tail. I remember everything.

James Matuscha told me, and I hated him for it. I don't anymore, it's not his fault. "you know that kid James Carmichael? He hanged himself or something yesterday"

I was thirteen years old. It has been six years now, but it could just as easily have been yesterday.

I loved him so much.

I was so sick for so long. Guess I'm "better" now, but it still hurts.

2:15 on a school day, I remember feeling depressed in 7th hour, that was my English class and I wrote a depressing poem for no reason whatsoever. I found out later that James died by his own hands, 2:15 that day. I blew a kiss at 2:15 every day for more than a year.

When he died, he took a piece of me. Andrya sat by me at his funeral, and wept on my lap. Part of me died that day, the day I saw him lifeless, the day she took her own life too. She was 13 years old. She was halfway through her life at six and a half years old. That doesn't make much sense to me.

She was listening to Nirvana on repeat on her CD player. She loved Kurt's music.

Her funeral was miserable. Her dad took me in his arms and shook me, told me to stay safe and move on. I thought my mom was going to have to jerk me out of his hands.

That was so damned long ago, but I could still tell you where I was sitting in the church. I didn't go to the burial site after that service, I was scared I was going to pass out.

Then came highschool, and I thought, I'm safe here, away from the pain and hurt and fear of the halls of my middle school. We won't mention the suicide threats and attempts, the hospital visits, the notes in blood, the poetry, and the treatment I received. Today's not the day for those horrible memories.

Tim, I love you.

I can't remember how I found out about Tim. Lauren, maybe? Tim was in Our Lady of the Lake Hospital on life support. I skipped school the day after I found out (it was a Thursday night when I found out) and spent most of the weekend at the hospital. We all got drunk Friday night. That's quite another story, most likely the beginning of my downhill love of alcohol.

Sunday, they took Tim off of life support. He was braindead from the hanging and he wasn't going to make it.

If there was anything left in me alive, it died the day of his funeral. Andrew was a palbearer and I thought he was going to go wild. Tim's girlfriend went to my highschool. Tim was going through rehab and AA and his sponsor was also the sponsor of a kid from my highschool.

The only thing I liked about my highschool is that everyone there knew me as a happy, glowing person. They didn't know James and Andrya and they didn't know my pain. Tim's death took that away from me. At the time I didn't care; I hurt too much.

Tim's funeral was a blur, I sat in the back with my mom and I don't think I cried. I had been crying all weekend.

I didn't go to the burial site, come to think of it, I haven't ever been.

Andrew is home from the marines, now, for a few weeks. His highschool graduation is tonight (he's my age but he lost a year of school) and I missed it. He'll forgive me, though. He knows the one thing I can't always handle about being around him is the memories. Andrew is and always will be a very important person to me. Sometimes it's easier to stay away from those important people who bring that sense of nostalgia.

That's all that's going to come out for now.

Laura

JBC (3/8/84 - 9/26/96)

AAP (4/14/83 - 9/30-96) TAR (12/4/82 - 9/11/99)

lets guess why I hate September.

"everyone i know goes away in the end"

before | after

miss me?

make a difference - July 12, 2007
in short - February 20, 2007
gameday - October 14, 2006
quickie - October 02, 2006
roxie bear - July 06, 2006