Aesthetic Advocate

A Short Rant on Life and Death

Aesthetic Advocate — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 01:46:22 +0000

“Marla doesn’t have testicular cancer. Marla doesn’t have tuberculosis. She isn’t dying. Okay in that brainy brain-food philosophy way, we’re all dying, but Marla isn’t dying the way Chloe was dying.”

For all you fans of disgustingly realistic, horrifyingly repulsive, provocative and psychotic comedies out there, yes, I did steal this quote from Chuck Palahniuk’s first and probably most famous novel, Fight Club.[1] Is this completely fair; to steal another writer’s quote for the sake of writing something on a similar topic? Is this completely honest to take one person’s idea and write about it as if it’s my own? The question is not whether it’s fair or honest to have taken Palahniuk’s quote in an attempt to write a fairly decent essay of my own. The question is more or less, why I chose this particular quote.

Are we, as human beings, all slowly dying? Some people would unquestionably say yes. Of course we’re all slowly dying. Every minute in our lives is one less minute of existence; one minute closer to death. My family almost always eats dinner together. One could always tell when my mother had had a particularly trying day. Those were the days that she would sing during dinner. What would she sing? She sang a lively little tune with a chorus that went, “one meal closer to death, sweet Jesus. One meal closer to death…” I always considered this song very depressing and melancholic and not a suitable song to be singing at the dinner table. (That is, if any song is suitable to be singing while eating a meal.) Therefore, I always hated it when she sang this song. Why? Sometimes I wonder if it wasn’t solely because of its melancholic tone, but rather, at least partly, because I was scared of death. I recognized the fact that this silly tune had a greater truth about it. I was one meal closer to death. Every second of my life was one second less. Each wasted day, was a day I could never get back. So, if you think about it in a sense, yes, we are all dying…minute by minute.

Yet others would say we are all slowly living. Every minute is not a minute closer to death, but rather a minute more spent in the full fledges of life; a minute more learning about yourself and others on this wonderful planet we call Earth. Each moment is a moment filled with vigor, vigor for life. Are these people simply more optimistic than the people who tend to live by the philosophy that we are all slowly dying? Are these people simply ignorant to the untimely truth that the world’s depressed, emotional, and pessimistic poets have already discovered and embraced?

Either way you choose to look at it, one thing’s easy to understand. This is no ordinary argument. Arguably, everyone is right. Every day we are alive is another day of experience and memories; of life. Every day we are alive is one day less on Earth; one day closer to death. Oddly enough, this is an argument where everyone is also wrong. Can we really be both? Can we, as human beings, be both living and dying at the same time? Is that probable? I think the answer to the aforementioned questions, is one loud, resounding, yes. For why not? Why couldn’t a person be both living and dying at the same time? As I write this seemingly unimportant essay, I am listening to probably one of the most poetic songs I have ever heard. This song, “Learning How to Die” [2], has a simple chorus that says: “Don’t talk about how every living thing goes away. All along I thought I was learning how to take, how to bend, not how to break, how to live, not how to cry, but really, I’ve been learning how to die.” Maybe that’s all any of us are doing really. Each day in our lives is preparing us for our ultimate demise.

Then again, maybe I’m completely wrong and much of this argument simply has to do with how much a person values life. Do they “live every day to the fullest”, or do they wish every day they weren’t stuck in this complete hell-hole. I’ve been on both sides of the road. These days, I seem to have found somewhere in the median. I just hope I don’t get hit.

[1] Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. A debut novel published in 1996, it was made into a popular movie in 1999 starring Edward Norton, Brad Pitt, and Helena Bonham-Carter.

[2] Learning How to Die” lyrics by Jon Foreman. Recorded on his solo EP album, Winter, which was one of four solo EPs (also including Fall, Spring, and Summer), which all were released in 2007-2008. Jon Foreman is the lead singer/guitarist/songwriter for popular band, Switchfoot.

How I Feel

Aesthetic Advocate — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 06:19:02 +0000

you may never know how I feel about you

your hugs…so soothing

comforting embraces

in time

your sweet soft rich voice

flows smoothly

like chocolate

from your lips

your smile

your laugh

they light up my life

your eyes

deep translucent caves into your soul

your tall stature

that makes me feel

so insignificant and small

I love everything about you.

Movie Review for, Winter Passing

Aesthetic Advocate — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 06:28:17 +0000

Reese Holdin (Zooey Deschanel) is a twenty-something year old misfit living in New York City with her kitten, who’s dying of Leukemia. When she’s not performing on the stage (in unknown plays) she works as a bartender. Reese spends her free time drinking, smoking, snorting crack-cocaine, having sex with men who are practically strangers, and slamming her hand in drawers to punish herself for mistakes; this is until she meets a book editor in a bar. The editor, (Amy Madigan) wants her to go to her childhood home and dig up a box of old love letters sent between her parents, to be published. At first, Reese is unwilling to oblige the editor’s requests, however, after some consideration, she decides to get on a bus for Michigan. When she returns home, much to her surprise, nothing is as she left it. Her father (Ed Harris) is busy grieving the recent death of her mother in some of the oddest ways possible, and two other people have moved in with him; Shelly (Amelia Warner) a grad student of his, and Corbit (Will Ferrell) an odd wanna-be musician. As the days drag by, Reese starts to come to terms with who she is, what her life has become, and why her parents always acted the way they did. By returning home, Reese certainly doesn’t find what she wanted, but she does find what she needs.

In my opinion, Zooey Deschanel and Will Ferrell have never given better performances in their entire careers. Deschanel is extraordinary in the leading role. She plays the part with such grace and ease that it is hard to believe that she really isn’t Reese Holdin. I truly believe that half the reason this movie is so unforgettable is because of all the different emotions and feelings Zooey is able to conjure up, simply by her facial expressions. She brings the character to life. Whether we snort drugs in our free time or use self-mutilation as a form of punishment or not, everyone, in some way, can relate to Reese. She is on a journey; a journey to find her purpose in life, a journey to realize why she is the way she is and if she’s even okay with that. Throughout the entire film, Reese has many not so happy confrontations with her father and with Shelly, the grad student living in her father’s home. Corbit (Ferrell), the not-so-stereotypical, “Christian rocker” is the comic relief in this dramatic representation of a could-be real life story. His odd way of dressing, his extreme way of protecting Reese’s father, and his quirky way of saying grace before dinner all add to this film, both comedically and emotionally. Outstanding performances are also given by Ed Harris, Amelia Warner, Amy Madigan, and all other minor actors in this film.

Winter Passing is unlike any film I’ve ever seen before. It touched me in a way that no other film has been able to touch me, since Andrew Largeman went searching for his life’s purpose after his mother’s death in, Garden State. I, wholeheartedly, give this movie five out of five stars and suggest that everyone, whether you’re searching for life’s meaning and your true self or not, sees this film. It is well worth an hour and a half of your time.

Graduation

Aesthetic Advocate — Fri, 30 May 2008 19:37:25 +0000

Fading notes on an old sheet of music,

traces of foot steps in the dust,

people waving in the distance;

smiling faces no longer visible.

Eraser smudges left from

all our mistakes

and photographs from

all our triumphs.

The last thirteen years of your life

are naught but a memory.

Where Two Worlds Collide

Aesthetic Advocate — Fri, 30 May 2008 19:30:28 +0000

All walls fall downyou finally break lose

all in that moment

not fully awake

yet, not fully asleep

and still

in that moment

you are the most awake

that you will ever be

the most yourself

that you will ever be

the most honest

that you will ever be

full of dreams

wishes

aspirations

that you somehow know

could never be real

and yet in that moment

that split second

they are

your dreams

are your realities

like falling into another world

so perfect

yet terrible

horribly grotesque

in a sense

what you most fear

has become the only thing

you know

that when that split second is over

you will move on

past the real you

to the facade beneath

be the fake person behind the mask

that the world is expecting

and wants

to see

and then be happy

it’s what everyone wants from you

understandable

can anyone really tell

the dreams

from the reality?

or is it just a misty haze

the fog between

where those two worlds collide….

You Meet This Boy…

Aesthetic Advocate — Fri, 30 May 2008 19:28:58 +0000

You meet this boy because he hits you in the back with a cymbal during marching band. You turn around and immediately you like him. What a cute smile! He has a girlfriend. What a pity. You stay friends, but only just. You talk, but just barely. You ask him to prom, just as friends, of course. He says yes, but you don’t think he sounds too excited. You chicken out and go with someone else. He is only a freshman after all and you’re a junior. After this, you stop talking to him. You’re afraid he figured something out. Fast forward to August. You and your friends go to see the new movie in the Harry Potter series. He shows up…wearing a wizard hat. He was such an outgoing kid. You liked that. You had always been so shy. He had known that you liked him. But you hadn’t known that he was too nervous to ask you out. And then, on August 21, 2007, your friends threatened him until he did. You dated for five months. Five wonderful months. So many memories. Going to your house after Homecoming and not watching that movie you put in at all. Lying in the grass at his house, even though he had bad allergies. Falling asleep on his sofa, waking up an hour later than you were supposed to be home. Having an entire conversation about what would be the perfect wedding songs. [You and Me (Lifehouse) and High (James Blunt)]. Having him over that day no one was at your house. And gosh, without a shirt on…he was so tan! and his skin was so soft and silky. Staying at your house all night, you, asleep in his arms. You took him for granted.

He broke up with you on January 22, 2008. You knew it was mostly your fault. And yet, you were more upset than you had ever been in your entire life. You had screwed things up. You should have trusted him. You should have made sure he trusted you. He saved the last dance for you at Snowball. After the dance, he hung out with you and your friends. He told you he would always love you, no matter what. He told you how beautiful you looked in your silver dress; that he was sad when you changed from that, into your pajamas. He made you promise to go to prom with him this year. He kissed you again. It was one of the best nights of your life.

The following week, he started dating someone else. You didn’t know what to think anymore. He left you so confused and worried and angry. You felt you had been used. And yet, you couldn’t get over him…no matter how hard you tried. There was something about him, that you just couldn’t let go of. He may never have believed you loved him. And yet, if you didn’t love him, you would have moved on by now. And then, he started calling you again. He told you he loved you. Every. Single. Time. And, of course, you loved him back…maybe even more.

He came over to your house today. Nostalgia hit, as you laid on the sofa with him; his arms wrapped tight around you. He whispered he loved you in your ear. He even offered you that “one last kiss” you so dearly wanted. But you couldn’t take it. He has a girlfriend. No matter how much you dislike her, you couldn’t do that to her. Sure, she could do that to you when you were still dating him…but you couldn’t do that to her…no matter how much you wanted to. And besides, you knew that one kiss wouldn’t suffice. You would be left longing for more…and realizing how big of a fuck-up you are. And even now, he’s gone….again…..always too soon. And even now, even though nothing happened….you still know, that you’ve screwed up once again. You missed your chance. Some people just have all the luck in the world.

People say you’re crazy. You’re only eighteen. You’re too young to be that much in love. It’s not love. It’s just lust. Maybe you are crazy. You wouldn’t doubt that. But you know your own feelings. And you know what you feel is love. You know he’s the one. And you know, you want to spend the rest of your life with him. You know he’s the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you know, that you’re going to do whatever it takes, to make sure that tomorrow starts with him.

Nonexistent?

Aesthetic Advocate — Sun, 18 May 2008 17:58:33 +0000

The past few weeks you’ve been so not here.

I almost thought, today, you didn’t exist.

You were a figment of my imagination.

I had made you up, to make up for

some hole in my life.

And that made me feel better about everything.

for YOU WERE NONEXISTENT!

but then

I listened

to the one voicemail you ever left me.

I saw the cards you made me;

although, neither had your name written anywhere on them.

and I laughed.

good heavens, did I laugh.

you were real all along, very real.

I had made up, in my mind, who I wanted you to be,

and you weren’t, no matter how much I tried to convince myself.

That part of you, did not exist.

But now i’m okay.

I’m okay to believe that you don’t exist.

I have no idea who you are

because I simply have found

that I

just

don’t

care.

A Humble Prayer for Christians Today (otherwise known as Jennie’s Church Scholarship Essay)

Aesthetic Advocate — Thu, 15 May 2008 00:31:41 +0000

To most, being a Christian means following the words and teachings of Christ; living your life like Jesus would. To me, being a Christian means being inclusive, not exclusive. It means being in the world, but not of the world. It means sharing the words of Christ any way you possibly can. It means hanging out with what some might call “the wrong crowd”, because that’s what Jesus did. Stephen Christian of the band, Anberlin says and I quote, “I know some Christian bands that won’t play anywhere that they serve alcohol. What is that? Did Jesus only talk to virgin prostitutes? He talked to thieves and tax collectors and scum.”

Out of my large group of close friends, only three go to church fairly regularly. One is Lutheran. One is Catholic. One is Greek Orthodox. The rest of my friends fall into two categories: The Chreasters (people who go to church on Christmas and Easter only) and self-proclaimed Atheists and Agnostics. In this way, I am certainly hanging out with a variety of people who have many varying beliefs and faiths; something that I believe Christ did and would want people today to do. If you ask a non-believer what a Christian is to them, what Christianity means to them, you’ll get a variety of answers in return. One of my friends said and I quote, “When I hear the word Christian, I think of Conservatives. I think of people who go to church on Sunday, but don’t do much beyond that.” Another said, “I hate religion. I think Christians try to force their beliefs on others who could care less. They set a moral standard which even they can’t follow.” Yet another said, “I think the church as a whole, a lot of them, are hypocrites. The ones I have a real problem with though, are the ones in power; being in that position of power requires a lot of politicking.”

Why are we like this? Why are we, as Christians nonetheless, some of the world’s most distrusted, most hypocritical and most un-inclusive people? James 1:22-24 says, “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.” Toby McKeehan, of the band, Dc Talk said and I quote, “The greatest single cause of Atheism in the world today, is Christians; who acknowledge Him with their lips, then walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.”

I find it disheartening that I have friends who are Atheists who are kinder and more compassionate than some people I have met through church functions. I find it sad that I know non-believers that are more including and loving than some who loosely call themselves, Christians. I find it upsetting that I have a friend, who’s an Atheist, who’s read the entire Bible and could quote more scripture than I or half the other Christians I know, could. I find it terrible that sometimes, the church is so exclusive and conservative, that they can find miniscule reasons why someone shouldn’t be allowed to worship a God who loves them, too. I like how Mark Hall of Casting Crowns describes the church in one of their popular songs.

“Are we happy plastic people, under shiny plastic steeples, with walls around our weakness, and smiles to hide our pain? But if the invitation’s open, to every heart that has been broken, maybe then we close the curtain, on our stained-glass masquerade.”

I believe, the church likes to hide the fact that Christians are just as broken and messed up as the average person today. Yes, people today are turned off by the fact that many Christians seem like hypocrites. They don’t practice what they preach. They’re totally different people on Sunday mornings than they are at any other given time. But maybe a large part of the problem is not in what the church does, but rather what they don’t do; what they don’t show the rest of the world. We are just as broken and sick, and sometimes even more broken and sick, than the rest of the world. We need to show the world this; maybe then they would be more open to giving church a chance. We really are just humans and we are all exactly the same, believer or not.

Lacey Mosley, lead singer for the popular hard-core band, Flyleaf says, “I think the thing that makes people antagonistic toward Christianity is when you act like you’re better than them because they aren’t Christians.” Don’t think that because you’re a Christian you can save the world. Don’t shove religion down people’s throats. This is not what God intended. In Matthew 28:19 it says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” God didn’t say, “Go save people. Shove the gospel down their throats and bring them to church until you’re sure they will be going to Heaven when they die.” You can’t save people; only God can do that. Sometimes the best you can do is let your non-believing friends listen to some of your Christian music and hope and pray that someday, they’ll get what the musicians are saying. (It’s worked for me so far. I’ve gotten a few of my friends to listen to some Christian music…and they like it! They constantly re-listen to their music. Isn’t this more beneficial in the long run than me trying to force them to come to church?) As is said by the band Mainstay, in their song, ‘Well Meaning Fiction’, “you’re afraid to reason, your love is saving no one.” They’re right. Your love is saving no one. God’s love, is saving everyone.

As I’ve stated before, we, as Christians need to be all-inclusive. We need to listen to what the Atheists and Agnostics of the world have to say. We can learn from each other. Some Christians may say that Atheists are people without faith. These Christians are seriously mistaken. As Rob Bell says in his book, Velvet Elvis, “Atheists are people of immense faith.” They have tremendous faith in the fact that God doesn’t exist; just as much faith as every Christian should have. As one of the world’s most famous Atheists turned Christian (C.S. Lewis) says in his book, Mere Christianity, “If you are a Christian you do not have to believe that all the other religions are simply wrong all through. If you are an Atheist you do have to believe that the main point in all the religions of the whole world is simply one huge mistake. When I was an Atheist I had to try to persuade myself that most of the human race have always been wrong about the question that mattered to them most; when I became a Christian I was able to take a more liberal view.” Christians, it seems, should be the more inclusive, liberal and understanding type. So why is it that so often we’re considered the conservative, misunderstanding, exclusive type who won’t listen to what non-believers have to say? Listening to other people’s beliefs is one giant step towards becoming more open-minded and bringing more people to Christ through our actions.

All of us, as Christians, should want to be human images of God. We should have a desire to be “doers of the word”. We should want to spread the good news of Christ to the world. Each of us, in turn, have our own unique talents and abilities given to us by God to fulfill these desires and wants. We should want to give our lives to Christ. As C.S. Lewis said, “Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.” This is all I long to do with my life. No matter where I am ten years from now, this is the role I pray Christ is playing in my life then and until my dying day. Jon Foreman of the band Switchfoot says and I quote, “I have no stones to throw. I’m a drop-out from San Diego who writes four-minute pop songs. I want to be about the business of peace, of tearing down walls. I am wanting to serve people. I care about the people who are trying to follow Christ with their lives. That’s the why now. That’s the why. I’m just trying to imitate a hero of mine.”

Let us all practice what we preach, hiding nothing and knowing we are no better than anyone else. Let us all listen to one another and be inclusive of each other’s varying beliefs. Let us all give our lives up to Christ. Let us all be broken and made new by his never ending love. Let us all have these longings and desires to fulfill. Let us all share the good news of Christ in our own unique ways, using our own unique talents and abilities. Let us all be imitations of the most perfect human being who ever walked and who ever will walk the Earth.

Amen.

At the End of Winter

Aesthetic Advocate — Wed, 14 May 2008 01:30:51 +0000

I was born, January 22^nd, 1990 in a small hospital in Appenzell, Switzerland. My mother, Etionnette LaManche, had me out of wedlock. Her boyfriend, Xavier and her had never planned on having children. I was a mistake; an unwanted child. Therefore, I was being put up for adoption the moment I was born. She didn=t even have a name picked out for me. That=s why, two minutes after I was born, my mother looked out the window, at the snow frosted roof, and decided to name me, Hiver Yvette LaManche. Hiver, is the french word for Winter. I would be teased for the rest of my life about this.

When I was 3 years old, I was adopted by a Mr. and Mrs. Dave and Becky Holland of the United States of America. My name officially became Winter Holland. After living with them for two years in Worcester, Massachusetts, they adopted a pair of twins from England; Miranda and Nicolette Beckinsley. After this endeavor, our family promptly moved to Ohio. This was where my Amom@ and Adad=s@ family lived. Once moving there, my life became somewhat normal. I was your average American kid. Of course, I was not American, but no one else knew that. I was made fun of, for my name, my clothes, my hair, my looks overall, my personality, my sense of humor, everything. It was something I learned to get used to, however. Sadly to say, it grew on me.

AWelcome to another day at Linville High School! Please stand for the pledge of allegiance,@ the principal=s voice blared over the loudspeaker in our home room. >Dammit=, I thought to myself. I hated standing up for the pledge of allegiance. I=m not completely anti-America. I know that I have a better life here, than I would have had on the streets of Appenzell. It=s simply that I don=t agree completely with all American issues. AAhhhh geeze, Winny, don=t they know by now you=re a fuckin= socialist!?@ my best friend Jack Hartman whispered from the desk behind me. I turned around and stared at him. He gave me one of those weird looks he always gives me. We both burst out into laughter; and that is how I ended up in the guidance office, 2^nd period, on October 5^th, 2006, with a demerit.

AMiss, I need your name, please@ the secretary said to me. She was an old quack who walked with a slight limp. Wisps of her brunette hair were falling out of the bun on the back of her head; strands near her eyes faded from brown to grey. AOh, sorry.@ I replied. AIt=s Winter Holland. I=m a junior. Mr. Neckland=s home room,@ I continued, AI=m here for talking during the pledge. I,@ She cut me off with an angry tone of voice. AI know why you=re here, Miss Holland. Have a seat.@ I could already tell she didn=t like me. I had never been in the office before, never done anything terribly wrong before, and yet, I was already being discriminated against. Not a good sign. Of course, what could you expect out of people? Everyone seemed to judge teenagers with hair that was dyed black with blue streaks. Everyone seemed to dislike teenagers who wore mainly black clothing. Everyone seemed to discriminate against teenagers with a nose and a lip ring. Everyone seemed to be prejudice against a teenager with a skull tattoo on their wrist. (Little did they know, I also had a large tattoo of a rose on the small of my back.) But hey, it was just another day in the life of your average Aemo kid@, I suppose.

I remember, very vividly, the day I met my best friend, Jack Hartman. Even though he had gone to the same school as me for the past six years, I did not know him, until that day I walked into Delia*s, at Glenville Mall. He was there, behind the counter, working. AIs that a girl or a guy?@ my Mom whispered in my ear. Jack was wearing a tight blue t-shirt, girl jeans, and a pair of converse with pink star shoelaces. His black hair was cut in almost the exact same style as mine, medium length, partly covering his face. His dark brown eyes were surrounded by black eyeliner. His left eyebrow was pierced. AUmmm, yeah Mom, that=s a guy.@ I quickly replied. He was one of the cutest emo guys I had ever seen. I made sure to spend lots of time in the front of the store, close to the desk. I=m sure he noticed me lingering around the t-shirt sale rack a little too long, for he slowly came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. ANeed help finding anything? Looking for anything in particular? A certain size, perhaps?@ he asked. AOh…no..no, thank you,@ I replied. He stuck out his hand, and I shook it in return. AMy name=s Jack. What=s yours?@ AOh, umm….Jane,@ I answered back with a completely straight face. AJane? Really? That name doesn=t quite seem your type. Too normal.@ He gave me this look. It was halfway between a smile and a smirk. I would get used to this look as the years went on. AYeah, you=re right, I guess.@ I sighed. AMy name=s Winter…like the season.@ AWinter, eh? You know, I sorta like it. It=s different. I=m all for non-conformity. It fits.@ He smiled at me again.

I had been sitting in the office for close to forty five minutes. I must admit, I am not one to get bored easily, however, the minutes seemed to be dragging by. I turned my head to the right as I heard the door open. Seeing that it was just some preppy looking guy, and not the principal or anyone of actual importance, I took out my headphones and mp3 player. Putting the headphones in my ears, I proceeded to lean my head against the wall and tried to sleep. After a few minutes, hearing someone sit down on the bench beside me, I slowly opened my eyes just to glance at who would have enough nerve to sit next to a girl like me. The preppy guy who had just walked through the door looked back at me. He was wearing one of the ugliest sweaters I had ever seen. He had really curly, dark blond hair and his eyes were a deep hazel. Feeling weird that I was staring at him, I looked down towards the ground, and immediately noticed his shoes. Certainly not the type of shoes I would expect a fairly preppy looking person to be wearing; checkered vans. Well, people surprise you everyday. Looking back up towards his face again, I saw his lips start to move. It seemed that no words were coming out though. Why couldn=t I hear him? Could I really be losing my hearing at the age of 16? Was I just going insane? I must have given him an odd look, because he smirked at me and then made a gesture towards his ear. Oh, my headphones were still in. I had been too busy listening to the Suicide Machines to realize that the headphones turned on at full blast were my problem. Blushing, and pulling them out of my ears, I stumbled through my words. ASorry, I didn=t realize I still had those in…what were you saying?@ He started to smirk again, but this time I noticed, that his smirk slowly turned into a shy smile. Blushing once more, I realized that he had one of the nicest smiles I had ever seen. AI was asking what you were listening to, Winter.@ AYou…you know my name?@ I stuttered. AOf course I know your name. Everybody knows you. Half the guys in our grade are obsessed with you, and the other half just call you that one junior who=s a whore.@ I didn=t know for sure what to say. He continued. AI=m Rob or Robby…whichever you prefer………. Come on, don=t act like you don=t know me…I=m in band with you. I play saxophone….and you=re Winter. Winter Holland…the cute junior whore who plays mellophone in marching band and always hangs out with Jack Hartman, a.k.a. the only real true band fag.@ I watched as he silently laughed at his own joke. AAhh, right. I thought you looked familiar. It=s amazing you know so much about me@ I replied. AOh, it=s not really that much. It=s just the way I worded it. It sounded like a lot, eh?@ Rob smirked. AA little on the arrogant side, are we?@ I muttered. That shut him up…for a few seconds. ASo…what were you listening to?@ AOh, sorry. I tend to forget stuff easily. Short term memory loss and ADD don=t go well together,@ I paused, hoping he would laugh. He slowly smiled, but other than that, no reaction. AWell, I was listening to..umm..a mix…some of the Suicide Machines, some Big D and the Kid=s Table, Less than Jake, Save Ferris, the Aquabats, you know…@ ASo you=re a ska fan? That=s funny. I definitely would have thought you were into the more emo type music..but hey, I shouldn=t judge people, right?@ ANahh, you shouldn=t…judge or assume that is. Someday, someone might really surprise you,@ I replied. Rob looked lost in thought for a few minutes. I=ll never forget how he stared straight into my eyes and responded, Amaybe…maybe…@

The custodians thought I lived at the school. Once I got my driver=s license I started staying around the school every day as long as I possibly could. I hated going home. I despised school, yet, I liked it better than being at home; if that gives you any insight into my home life. Whether it was pretending to help with tech, helping other people with their homework or English projects, I did anything I could to stay as long as possible and have a valid excuse for it. But then that time always came when I had to walk to the parking lot, get in my parent=s truck, and drive home. It was as if my Ahappy school life@ completely ended. It was as if I was sitting on a cloud, and then, it just started pouring the rain down, and I had to face reality. I had to come back down to Earth…back to the person I really was. I had to stop being AJane@. I had to be Winter Yvette Holland once more.

AWinny…you don=t understand@ Jack started. ANo, no…it=s fine. I understand,@ I said through the tears falling down my face and splattering on my jeans. AYou don=t like me like that. It=s okay. I understand. Hell, you probably already have a girlfriend.@ AWinny, I….I…well…@ Jack looked at my now wet and completely red face. He continued on in a rushed voice. AI have a boyfriend. He goes to a different school. I…I=m gay.@ He moved closer to me and wiped the tears from my cheek with his hand. AOh, Jack…why didn=t you just tell me?@ AI was scared…nervous that you would reject me once you found out. So many people have. My best friend of eight years left me when he found out. He…he called me a disgusting pervert..said he couldn=t believe his best friend was a fag. I haven=t talked to him since.@ AJack…I=m so sorry. I had no idea. But don=t worry, I don=t mind. I won=t leave you. You=ll always have me.@ AYes,@ he smiled and grabbed my hand, AI=ll always have you.@ That day, that Jack told me the truth, I realized two things. I learned that that saying I had once heard, really was true. AAll the nice guys are ugly, all the cute guys are awful bastards, and all the nice and cute guys are queers.@ And I realized something else; something even more important. I realized how amazing it felt to finally have a best friend; someone you could really relate to.

I was taller than my Mom. My Mom had an auto-immune disease. Yet, my Mom was still stronger than me. Somewhat pathetic, if you think about it. We fought a lot…more than a teenage girl is supposed to fight with her mother…I think. Usually, my Dad was on my side…but the worst thing ever, was when he wasn=t. Then it was two against one; one helpless human being, a.k.a. moi.

Walking into the band room fifth period with Jack, I saw Rob. I was perfectly content to walk right on past him; not say a word. Of course, I was stupid enough to make eye contact with him. That always does it. Whenever you make eye contact with a person, someone feels the need to talk. AHey, Winter, what up? Long time, no see, eh?@ he said. Turning away, he smiled at his friend, Austin. AAhhh, yeah…right. Seems like just a couple hours ago that I met you. Maybe that=s because it was…imagine that.@ Turning towards Jack, I started to roll my eyes, but stopped when I saw the expression on his face. It was a mixture of sheer horror, disappointment, and devastation. AUhh, Jack…what=s wrong?@ I said. He was staring at something past my right shoulder. AOh..it=s nothing,@ he quickly replied, looking back towards me. ASure it=s not@ I murmured. I turned around to face Rob once again…but he was gone.

Back when I first met Jack, I didn=t have all the piercings and tattoos that I do now. My Mom said he was a bad influence. She thinks just because he had his eyebrow pierced (and as I later found out, his tongue as well), that=s why I got my nose and lip pierced; or that because he wanted a tattoo, is the only reason I got two. However, she=s really wrong. When I look back on the situation, I would say that Jack Hartman was one of the biggest and one of the best influences in my life. I remember the day we went and got tattoos together. We needed something to do and I had always sort of wanted one anyway, so we went; Nina=s Tattoos, it was called. Nina was a younger woman, probably in her early twenty=s. She had dark auburn hair, loads of freckles, and her arms were covered with tattoos. Jack went first. I was too scared. He got a tattoo of a rainbow on his arm; he said his boyfriend was going to get a pot of gold later. We laughed at this, of course. Then, it was my turn. I wasn=t sure what to get..or where. I remember Jack urging me to just get something that suited my personality. I immediately thought of something, but I wasn=t open enough, couldn=t be open enough..even with my best friend. As I stared into space, confused and lost as to what to do, Jack suggested that, didn=t I like pirates? Of course, which was why I ended up getting a tattoo of a jolly roger on the back of my wrist. After all that pain was over, we drove to the nearest ice cream shop and we both got strawberry banana milkshakes. Jack taught me to be the individual I was supposed to be. He told me, what no one else had ever told me before. ABe who you want to be. You want to get piercings? Do it. You want to get tattoos? Do it. You want to dye your hair, wear black clothing, talk to weird people like me? Go ahead. No one is stopping you. It=s your life, don=t let society run it. Don=t let them hold you back. Go for your dreams, your goals, your wishes and hopes. You were made to be a unique individual, so don=t let anything hold you down. Don=t let anything hold you back.@ He taught me to be an individual, but he couldn=t get me to open up to him…about anything. That job, went to someone else.

AYou got a tattoo?! You got a fucking tattoo!! I thought I had told you to never never NEVER get a tattoo!!! You little bitch! Do you never listen to what I have to say?! I=m your Mother!! You=re supposed to listen to me! What the hell is your problem?!?! YOU=RE JUST A FUCKING LAZY BITCH WHO NEVER DOES ANYTHING…BUT NOW YOU GO AND REBEL AGAINST ME. YOU GET A DAMN TATTOO! WHAT=S NEXT?! YOU GONNA DROP OUT OF SCHOOL, WORK AT MCDONALDS FOR THE REST OF YOUR FUCKING LIFE!? OR MAYBE YOU COULD BE A PROSTITUTE..YOU DRESS LIKE A LITTLE SLUT ANYWAY!!@ She smacked me across the face…hard. I tripped and fell over a book lying on the floor and my head hit the corner of my desk. AI CANNOT BELIEVE YOU!! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!! YOU BITCH! I WISH YOU WOULD MOVE OUT…YOU SHOULD MOVE OUT, SINCE YOU HATE IT HERE SO MUCH!@ With this, my Mom walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I remember lying on the hardwood floor, next to my desk, for over a half hour. I felt tears roll down my cheeks, as the side of my face stung with pain. My Mom was right. I was a useless, good for nothing bitch. All I could ever do with my life was get paid for sex. I dressed like a whore…might as well be one. I had nothing else going for me. Slowly getting up from the floor, I made my way over to my mirror. My eyes were red and puffy. My hair was a tangled mess. My black eyeliner was running in streaks down my face. On the right side of my face, right above my eye, was a deep gash. The red of the blood was slowly trickling down my face, mixing with the eyeliner. A river of black and red liquid was slowly moving down my face, mixing with my tears. It tasted salty in my mouth.

I find that sleeping, is one of the best things in the world. Why, you ask? When you=re sleeping, you don=t have to think about anything. And if you want to think about something, it can be whatever you want. You can dream whatever you want. It doesn=t have to be true. When you sleep, it=s like your real life fades away; reality is gone. All that=s left is you…and the things you wish were reality. I would sleep all day someday if someone would be kind enough to let me. That way, I would be able to have a whole day of the life I want; a whole day of the life I dream of every night when my head hits the pillow. One whole day where everything goes right, everything goes the way I want it to, no one gets hurt, everyone feels loved, and I am..happy.

AWinny…I want you to meet Braedon,@ Jack had said that Sunday afternoon. ABraedon? Who the hell is Braedon?@ I quickly responded. AMy…boyfriend….Braedon….Braedon Becks. I want you to meet him…or maybe I just want him to meet you…whatever. I just want you guys to fuckin= meet sometime…soon.@ AUmmm, okay. I suppose that would be alright with me. When?@ AHow does right now sound?@ ARight now?@ I stuttered. AYeah, right now. I mean, we=re not doing anything else important at the moment…are we?@ Jack asked. ANo. Of course not. Yeah, I can meet him right now.@ ASchweet@ he replied.

It had been a bad day at school, what with that demerit and all. AMeeting@ Rob for the first time hadn=t exactly helped either. I just needed to relax; to just sit, and do absolutely nothing. Seeing that my parents weren=t home and my sisters had stayed after school, I immediately went to the refrigerator and looked for anything remotely good. >Hmmm, what did I want?= I thought. I had only a few choices. Mike=s Hard Lemonade, Budweiser, Strawberry Margarita, or Austrian Red Wine. It was a simple choice nonetheless. I pulled out the bottle and quickly began making a strawberry margarita. Taking it into my room, I sat the glass down on my desk and pulled a cigarette out of my purse. And there I sat, at my desk, with my notebook, margarita next to me, cigarette in my hand. Alcohol, drugs, cigs, paper and a pencil; they seemed to be my only friends somedays. I had Jack…but I couldn=t tell Jack everything. I was alone in that aspect. The only thing I could talk to was a piece of paper.

Over Christmas break, I went back to Nina=s Tattoos; alone, this time. AHey Winter!! What=s up? Jack=s not with you this time?@ the auburn haired 23 year old woman said to me. AHey Nina. No, Jack=s not with me. I came alone this time. I want to get another tattoo.@ AAnother? I thought you were so freaked by the first one…@ AWell, I sorta was…but I can deal. I want to get a real one this time.@ I said. AA real one?@ Nina asked. AThe skull was a real one.@ AI know,@ I continued. AI want one that actually really fits me this time, though.@ A few hours later, I came out of Nina=s Tattoos with a tattoo of a black rose on the small of my back. Petals from the rose had fallen off and were withering down on the lower part of my back. Later that night, taking my tank top off, I stood next to a mirror and looked at my back. Every time I bent over, it gave the illusion of more petals falling…falling…to their withering, decay and…death.

Braedon was a fairly tall guy with dark brown shaggy hair. His eyes were a deep blue and his right ear was pierced. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a dark green polo; complete opposite of Jack=s pink Anberlin t-shirt and girl jeans. Oh well, I suppose that was the day I realized that opposites do actually attract. Jack introduced me as one of his very best friends. For once in my life, I felt important and loved. ABraedon, this is Winter…or Winny, as I like to call her. Winny, this is my boyfriend, Braedon, or Brady, as I like to call him.@ Jack smiled at both of us. AHey,@ Braedon said, reaching his hand out to me. Shaking it, I felt like I was meeting Jack=s other half. It was…interesting, yet weird at the same time. There was silence for a moment. ASo…how=d you guys meet anyway?@ I asked, trying to break the awkwardness of the situation. Although, a very wise person had once told me, that there was no such thing as Aawkward silence@ until someone said it was awkward. Well, actually….it was just a stupid sex-crazed senior that probably had more STD=S than the sluts he slept with, and he had told me that, in a drunken stupor at a party when I was a sophomore, but that=s beside the point. AOh, well….@ Jack started, AWe met at a Coldplay concert.@ AYup,@ Braedon continued, AHouse of Blues, Cleveland, June 15^th 2004.@ AWow…Coldplay is awesome.@ I said. They both agreed; most likely for different reasons than me.

Most people look at me and see a truly apathetic human being. I always say I=m indifferent, that I don=t care, that I=m too indecisive, that it doesn=t matter to me…but no one has ever seen the real me. I=m the furthest thing from apathetic that a person could be. So many different emotions are constantly running through me, that often, it=s hard to decide what I really, truly feel; but it=s certainly not indifference. I have found however, that if you are apathetic about certain things, those certain things tend to be easier to cope with. This happens to be my opinion on one of the largest, most precious feelings to humans…Love. I am not one to speak of love lightly. I have loved a few people in my lifetime…and had my heart broken by every single last one of them. I=m sort of like Demi Moore=s character in the 1995 movie, Now and Then. I=ll remember that movie line forever. ALove is actually quite a simple thing. If you don=t love, you don=t get hurt.@ Of course, Rosie O=Donnell had to completely ruin that quote by adding, AOf course, but never allowing yourself to love another human gets awfully lonely.@

Walking into school the next morning, I saw Jack walking up ahead and quickly caught up to him. AHeyya Jack. What=s up?@ AOh, not a whole…@ he was interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. AHi Winter!@ I turned around and was greeted by a lively smirk on Rob=s face. AOh, it=s you….@ I murmured underneath my breath. AOh, it=s you@ Austin said in a high pitched tone behind Rob. AHey,@ Rob turned. ADon=t mock Winter, alright? You understand me? You need to have a good reason to mock this girl, and just because she=s walking with Linville High School=s biggest queer isn=t a good enough reason.@ They laughed in unison. I turned away from them…Jack was gone. ANow look what you=ve done Rob. You=ve made Jack leave. Why do you have such a big problem with him anyway?! What did he ever do to you?!@ Austin snorted. AWhy don=t you just go ask your precious little fag that, eh?@ AOkay…fine…I WILL!@ I screamed. AHey, hey, calm down Winter. It=s not a big deal. We should be past all this. But now, I must be off to my locker…see ya >round. Have a nice day, amorosa.@ With that, Rob and Austin left me, standing in the hallway, alone.

Stumbling into home room just as the bell rang, I sat down in front of Jack. Standing for the pledge, I didn=t talk at all…didn=t want to risk getting another demerit. Actually, the demerit I didn=t mind. I just didn=t want to have to go to the office and risk meeting more new people again. After the announcements were over, I turned around to face Jack. AOkay, look Jack, what is up with you and Rob? Do you have any idea why he has such a problem with you?@ Jack didn=t even look at me. He kept his head down, his eyes staring at the homework on his desk he was frantically trying to finish. AJack..answer me…please.@ Still, he didn=t look up. AJACK ANDREW HARTMAN! ANSWER ME NOW!!!@ I screamed. Mr. Neckland walked over to me. AWinter Holland…please, be quiet. Do you want to be sent to the office again today? Do you want a re-run of yesterday?@ ANo, Mr. Neckland. I=m sorry. I=ll be quiet.@ I muttered. Turning around in my desk, I sat quietly, staring straight ahead. A few minutes later, Jack got up from his seat and walked up to Mr. Neckland=s desk, putting a note on my desk as he passed. Opening it, I read what he had written. >The real question is not what do I have against him, but why are you and him friends?= Writing a note back was pointless, seeing as Jack had left the room and I didn=t see him the rest of the day.

Jack didn=t show up at school for the next one and a half weeks. I started to get worried after about the third day, but I wasn=t sure what to do. I felt like I had no one to talk to…no one to confide in. Finally after ten days had gone by, I called Jack=s house. His mother, Julia, picked up the phone. AHi Miss Clasky….This is Winter Holland. Is Jack there?@ AOh Winter honey, I=m so sorry. Jack isn=t here. He hasn=t been here, for over a week now. He=s been at his Dad=s house. You want his number?@ AOf course, thank you so much.@ Two minutes later, I was calling Jack=s father. His parents had divorced when he was really young. Hearing a gruff hello on the other end, I responded. AHi Mr. Hartman. This is Winter Holland. I=m friends with Jack. I just called Miss Clasky and she gave me your number…she said he was at your house. Could I speak to him?@ ALook, miss..whatever your names is…Jack s=isn=t here right s=now. Hasn=ts been s=here for a fews days.@ His father was slurring his speech…he was obviously drunk. AMr. Hartman, are you saying that Jack ran away?@ ASuppose s=that=s what I=m sayin, nows ain=t it?@ AMr. Hartman…do you understand the severity of a situation like this? Have you called your ex-wife? Have you called the police? Have you told anyone?!@ I heard a click. The bastard had hung up on me. Of course Jack=s father hadn=t called anyone. From what Jack had told me, his father had never liked him; and when he had found out his son was gay, he had despised him even more. It didn=t help that Mr. Hartman was an alcoholic. I should have called the authorities…or at least called Miss Clasky back. I didn=t do either. I was too scared. Instead, I drove down the street to Nina=s place.

Not paying attention to the closed sign hanging outside, I burst through the door, to find Nina sitting on a chair looking at a Cosmo magazine. ANina! I=m so glad to see you. I need your help. Jack has run away…and no one knows! His father doesn=t care enough to contact the cops or even Jack=s mother! Can you help me?@ I stopped for breath. AWinter….darling…I…..I=m so sorry. I can=t. How can I help you? I can=t even help myself. I can=t even lead a steady life on my own. Did you not see the sign on the door? I=m closed. I=ve gone bankrupt.@ AOh, Nina….I=m so sorry. I had no idea….@ ADon=t worry about me,@ she continued, Ayeah, I have no college education. Hell, I don=t even have a high school diploma, but I=ll make it somehow. I have a friend down at the deli that might give me a job, hopefully.@ AI would have come and gotten ten more tattoos if you had told me you were running out of money.@ Nina smiled sweetly. AAhhhh Winter…it=s okay. Doing ten tattoos wouldn=t have helped me that much…and you wouldn=t have been able to handle the pain anyway.@ She laughed. A smile started to form on my tear stained face. ABut just a question, have you called Brady?@ AWho?@ I stuttered. ABraedon….Jack=s boyfriend…have you tried calling and asking him if he=s seen Jack recently?@ AOh my gosh, no..I haven=t. Nina, you=re a genius.@ I started out the door. ANow you go do that and tell me if you find out anything, alright?@ AWill do. Hey Nina?@ I said. AWhat?@ she replied. A Don=t worry about things. Everything will be okay in the end. If it=s not okay, it=s not the end. Keep your chin up.@ With that, I left.

Two hours later, my cell phone started ringing. Unknown caller. >Weird=, I thought. Picking up, I=m not sure who I was expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn=t Rob. AHey Winter. How are you?@ ARob?! Is that you?! How the hell did you get my cell number?!@ I stuttered. AWell, oh gosh, don=t think I=m a stalker. I=m not. I got it off the school=s files, on the computer.@ A You went snooping around on the school=s files to get my phone number?!@ ALook, Winter..it wasn=t that big of a deal. My Mom=s the secretary. I use her computer all the time.@ AWait…your Mom is Mrs. Groshkho?!@ AYes, the ugly old wench secretary, Mrs. Groshkho…my Mom.@ AOh….sorry. I didn=t know. Well, anyway, why did you want my number? Why did you call?@ He stuttered. AWell, to be honest with you..I wanted to know where Jack has been.@ AYou..wanted…to know…where…Jack..has been? Why? You hate Jack. You make fun of him all the time.@ ALook, I don=t really want to talk about this over the phone. I=d rather it be in person. You want to meet me at the park in a half hour?@ AShould I consider this a…..date?@ I asked. AI suppose you could. Alright, see you soon, amorosa. Bye.@ He hung up. I had a date..with Rob Groshkho..in a half hour. I didn=t know whether to be thrilled..or devastated.

Hitting the snooze button on my alarm clock, I let my head hit the pillow again for the fourth time that morning. A few minutes later, my bedroom door opened with a creak. AWinter, get your lazy ass out of bed…now. It=s Sunday. We have to go to church.@ my Mom said. AEhhhh, whatever,@ I murmured in my sleep. AWhat?! WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME!?@ she screamed. AGET OUT OF BED NOW, YOU FUCKING BITCH! GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP! YOU=RE GOING TO MAKE US ALL LATE TO CHURCH, DAMMIT!@ Sitting up, I retorted. A I don=t want to go to church. I don=t feel welcome there. I don=t feel loved there. What if I=m mad at God? Why should I have to go worship someone I=m angry with?@ AYOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SLUT! YOU HAVE NO REASON TO BE MAD AT GOD! HE=S THE ONE THAT HAS GIVEN YOU THE WONDERFUL LIFE YOU HAVE!@ AYeah, >cuz it=s such a wonderful life@ I muttered. AWHAT DID YOU SAY?!!@ ANothing. I didn=t say anything. Just leave me alone@ I replied. I shut my eyes and laid back down again. Someone grabbed my feet. Opening my eyes, I could see my mother standing in the corner. My father had walked in and was pulling me out of bed. ANO!! YOU CAN=T MAKE ME GO!! THIS ISN=T FAIR! YOU DON=T UNDERSTAND!@ I yelled. AI understand perfectly, little girl. You can=t get your ass out of bed, I=ll get it out for you,@ my Dad said as he continued trying to pull me out of the comfort of my bed. Screaming, I grabbed on to the headboard and tried to resist my father. Too bad he was a million times stronger than me. Hitting the ground harder than I would have if I hadn=t been resisting the motion, my head hit the corner of my bed. Screaming out in agony, I put my hand to my forehead. Slowly pulling my hand away, I saw that it was covered with blood. My mind went back to a few weeks ago, when I had hit my head against the desk; the same gash had opened up, and it was deeper than ever.

On my way to the park, I called Braedon=s cell phone. Thankfully, he picked up on the first ring. AHello?@ AHi Brady. It=s Winter. Is Jack there?@ AYeah, he is actually. He=s been at my place the past few days…ran away from his dad=s house. Couldn=t take it anymore, I guess.@ AOh my gosh…thank you…thank you soo much. You don=t know how much this means to me, Brady..knowing that Jack is safe.@ AWhy have you guys stopped talking?@ AWhy? Because…he thinks I=m friends..with Rob Groshkho….I don=t know why he hates him, other than the fact that Rob always makes fun of him….calling him a queer and fag and stuff like that.@ AOh…it=s all because of Rob. Jack told me it might be. Well, Jack told me to say something to you then. He wanted me to let you know, that Rob likes you…a lot. He just has this personality deficit. He has a hard time letting go of the past, and he always feels the need to impress people.@ AWell, Braedon…could you tell Jack something for me?@ ASure…what?@ ARob called me a few minutes ago. I=m going to meet him at the park now. He wanted to talk to me, because…he was worried…about where Jack was…for some reason.@ AReally? Wow…well, I=ll let Jack know that..and that you called. Have a nice time with Rob.@ AYeah, I=m sure I will,@ I replied sarcastically. ANo, I=m serious, Winny. I think some physical intimacy with another human being, would do you some good. Just go, talk to Rob. Have fun..don=t worry about Jack. I=m taking good care of him and he=ll be back to school soon.@ AAlright…thanks Brady.@ With that, I hung up and drove on.

Pulling into the parking lot, I saw Rob standing over by a nearby bench. Getting out and locking the door, I walked over to where he was standing. AHey@, he said. AHey@ I replied. AHow are you?@ AI=m okay…how about you?@ AAlright…better now that you=re here.@ AWhy=s that?@ AI was scared you wouldn=t show up,@ Rob said. AWhy wouldn=t I have showed up?@ AWell, I thought you hated me. I thought maybe you would think this was all a hoax and would just….not show.@ ANahh…I would never do that. Besides, truth be known, I don=t hate you. I hate you for how you act towards Jack…but you as a person, I really sorta like you, actually…@ my voice faded out. A….Really?@ he stuttered. AYeah, really. I wouldn=t lie to you, Rob….but tell me, why were you so worried about Jack? Just want him to come back to school so you have someone to make fun of again?@ I smirked. ANo…well….actually…see…this is how it is…with Jack and I…why I make fun of him, why he hates me. It all has to do with betrayal, I suppose. I felt betrayed…and some days, I really miss Jack.@ A…..What? I don=t understand. What are you trying to say? How did Jack let you down? You miss Jack being at school?@ ALook..did Jack ever tell you about how he felt so >betrayed= by his best friend? His best friend who left him, when he found out Jack was gay?@ AYeah..he told me…why?@ AI was that best friend, Winter. I was Jack=s best friend. We met back in third grade. We both played soccer on the same team. He was my best friend for eight years…and then….when we were sophomores, Jack told me he was gay…and I sorta flipped out, a little too much…started calling him a lot of bad things that I now regret…and….well, we haven=t talked since then. We just go around hating each other.@ AOh my….Rob…..I had no idea, that you were that friend that left Jack….I….I wish I would have known before now..that would have made everything so much easier.@ A I know. I=m sorry I never told you. I=m sorry I kept just continually making fun of Jack…but I felt it was the only way I could get closer to him again, by making fun of him. I realize that being gay is nothing that you can really control…you just sorta…are. I miss Jack…a lot.@ AYou know what? I think Jack misses you, too. I mean, he has his…boyfriend, Braedon..and he has me, but…no one could ever replace you…I don=t think.@ AReally? You think so?@ AReally really. I mean, you=re a pretty special, interesting, entertaining person…you=re unique. Of course no one could ever replace you.@ I smiled. We sat down on the wooden bench beneath an Oak tree. AYou know….you have this way with words, Winter. You in creative writing class or anything?@ APshh, no.@ I laughed. AI=m not good at anything. Like so many people have told me, I=m just a slut…a whore….all I=ll ever be good for is sex.@ I chuckled to myself. Rob slowly put his arm around me. AWinter…who=s told you that?@ AWell…you called me a whore the day I met you.@ AYeah, I know. It was just a joke, though…someone else has said that to you..I can tell. Who?@ He reached his hand out towards my face. AAnd you know..it really bugs me that you always have hair in front of your right eye. Your eyes are so beautiful…green, like emeralds…yet you can=t see them because of your hair.@ He moved his hand closer and started to brush my hair away. ANO!@ I yelled at him and jumped up off of the bench. A…What? Did I do something wrong, Winter? What=s the matter?@ AI=m sorry. I just realized…it=s late….I should probably get going.@ AWinter…do you think I=m a complete fool? You were fine until I started talking about your hair being in front of your eyes…what=s the big deal?@ AOh, nothing…it would…ruin my reputation..of being…a pirate.@ I laughed. Rob was not laughing. AWinter, I=m being serious here…what is the big deal?@ I broke down. Right there and then…at the park, with Rob…I broke down. Sitting back down on the bench, I started shaking and crying uncontrollably. AWinter….@ Rob said. He reached for my hands and held them; trying to warm them from the cold. Once again, he reached up for my hair and started to brush it away from my eye. This time, I didn=t stop him. Finally, pushing my hair back, Rob stopped. I could hear an audible gasp leave his lips. AWinter…you have a huge…gash…a scar….above your eye…who did this to you…?@ I continued sobbing and shook my head. ANo,@ he said. He wrapped his arms around me tighter. AI=m not letting you go until you tell me.@ A……My Mom…..@ I stuttered. AYour Mom did that to you?!@ Rob cried. A…Yes@ I replied softly. AHave you told anyone?! Winter, answer me! Have you told anyone that your Mom abuses you? Your Mom physically abuses you! She probably mentally and emotionally abuses you, too! She=s the one who=s told you you=re a good for nothing whore, isn=t she?@ I stopped responding. There was no point in answering; he already knew the answers anyway.

Throughout the next few weeks, Rob and I spent as much time together as we could. I would go over to his house almost every day after school. Things were different without Jack around. Rob was my only other friend. It was one of those lazy rainy Thursday afternoons at Rob=s house when he asked me that question. AHey Winter….@ AYeah, what?@ I slowly said as I rolled over on his bed, to look at him. I had been tired and he had cordially allowed me to take a nap on his bed. He was sitting at his desk halfway across the room. He got up out of the chair and walked over to where I was laying. Moving my arm aside, he sat down on the edge of the bed. AWinter…do you love me?@ ADo I love you? Why?@ AI just wanted to know…if the feeling was mutual…because…..I love you. I love you…a lot…more than I thought it was possible to love another human being.@ He smiled sweetly at me. I laughed. ADo I love you, Robert Michael Groshkho? That=s like asking an Italian, do you love wine? That=s like asking a hopeless romantic, do you love Pride and Prejudice? Of course I love you…what other feeling could I have towards you?@ He smiled at me once again. Grabbing his wrist I pulled him down onto the bed with me. He pulled the sheets over our heads, and we just lay there, for awhile; basking in each other=s warm embrace, the way flowers bask in the spring sunlight. AWinter Yvette Holland,@ Rob started. AYou have bewitched me, body and soul..and I love you….@ he kissed my forehead, AI love you….@ he kissed my cheeks, AI love you….@ He kissed my lips. AHow did you know that I love Pride and Prejudice? That movie quote….it=s my favorite of all time.@ AWell, of course it is, you=re a hopeless romantic.@ We laughed. He slowly reached around me and started unbuttoning my sweater; I didn=t stop him. Instead, I rolled over, onto my stomach. As he lifted up my tank top underneath, I could almost see the smile on his face. He rubbed his hand over my back, where the tattoo of the rose was. AI didn=t know you had another one.@ I looked up at him and smiled. AIt=s mysterious…sad..yet beautiful…just like you.@ Rob brushed away the wisps of hair in my face; gently touching the gash above my right eye, he softly spoke to me. AWinter…someday, this scar is going to heal…and everyone..not just me…everyone, even your Mom, is going to realize how beautiful you really are; what a wonderful human being you are. Someday, you=re not going to be the withering black rose in the bouquet of the reds and yellows. You=re going to be the darkest, reddest, most alive rose, in the midst of all the others. You=re going to be something, someone great. I just know it. And someday, I am going to marry you..no matter what you say now…I am.@ Lifting my chin up with his hand, he softly kissed me. At the same moment, I felt a gentle thud in my hand. Looking down, there was a simple, yet beautiful, white gold ring. Slipping it on my finger, he kissed me for the third time that day. AIt=s as simple, and yet as complicated as you. Yet, you=re so much more to me than I could ever begin to describe in words.@

Mr. Hartman had been taken to prison on charges of attempted murder. After finding out Jack had run off to Braedon=s home, Mr. Hartman showed up at the Becks= doorstep with a gun and swore he=d shoot if they didn=t give him his son back. Mrs. Becks had put up a good fight, but was still lying in a hospital bed with broken ribs, a bruised face, and a broken nose. Luckily, the police had arrived just in time to spare her life and everyone else=s. Jack returned to school two weeks later. He was almost famous. When I first saw him, he was, it seemed, a completely different person. No more girl jeans. No more pink shoelaces. No more eyeliner. No more eyebrow or tongue piercing. He had cut his hair short. AHell, what the fuck is your problem Jack!? You look like you=re about to go off and join the army!@ I smiled and hugged him. ALook,@ he said, Amy Dad tried to kill my boyfriend=s Mom…just because he hates the fact that his son is gay. He hates how I act. He hated how I looked. I can=t change how I act. I could change how I looked…so I did.@ AJack….do you not ever heed your own advice? Didn=t you once tell me be who you want to be? Don=t let society run your life. Act how you want to act. Dress how you want to dress. Go for your dreams. Don=t let anyone hold you back….don=t let your father run your life, Jack. He=s just jealous..jealous that he doesn=t have a life of his own….and angry, angry that he=s ruined the relationship he had with his wonderful son.@ Jack smiled…the first time I had seen him genuinely smile, in a long time. Hugging him, I continued. ANow you know Jack, there=s someone who really wants to talk to you..who=s been wanting to talk to you for awhile now..and now=s the opportune moment, I believe.@ As if it was right on cue, Rob walked around the corner and stopped when he saw Jack. They stood and stared at each other for a good, long, while. Then, as if pulled by a magnetic force, they ran towards each other and hugged. I don=t think I had ever seen Jack hug another male, other than Braedon. I saw tears in Rob=s eyes. AJack….man, I bet you don=t know how much I=ve missed you, buddy.@ AWell, you probably don=t know how much I=ve missed you either..so I guess we=re even.@ They laughed. ASo I hear you=re dating Winter…@ Jack said. AYeah, I am. I=m the lucky guy of the moment, I guess.@ He smiled. ANahh, you=re the luckiest guy of a lifetime. Winter=s the best catch in the school. Hell, if I was straight, I=d date her in a heart beat.@ They both turned towards me. Jack continued, ADamn, it=s all because of her that we=re talking again now…@

My mother was put on trial for being mentally and physically abusive on January 22^nd, 2008, my 18^th birthday. Everyone was there. My family, Jack, Miss Clasky, Brady, Rob and his mom, grouchy Mrs. Groshkho, Nina, even a few people from school that I didn=t know. After a stressful and nerve-wracking two hours, my mother, Mrs. Becky Holland was found guilty of the abuse and also found somewhat mentally unstable. She was sentenced to spend at least four years in a mental institute up in New York state. AI think this will hereby end court for the….@ AWait!@ I interrupted the judge. AYes, Miss Holland?@ ASir, today is my birthday. I turned 18. I am now, officially, an adult, and if it=s not too much trouble, I=d like to legally change my name.@ AYou want to change your name? Now, listen hear young lady, changing your name is a big deal. I hope you=ve realized and considered this.@ AOh yes, your honor,@ I replied. AI have thought about this long and hard. I do not wish for my name to be Winter any longer. I=m past the Winter season in my life. I=m sick of all this snow, all this coldness, all this, keeping everything bottled up inside and never telling anyone anything. I was adopted, your honor, when I was three years old…adopted from Switzerland.@ I could hear audible gasps from the many onlookers. AI would like to not only change my first name, but change my last name as well…back to the real person I am. I want to finally be, the unique individual that I was born to be. I want to stop letting other people run my life. I want to make my own decisions, and be my own person.@

The rest of the day, was a blur to me. It was like, my whole life had changed in one little instant. At the end of this year, we would all be graduating; going our separate ways, to different colleges, and possibly very different lifestyles. Jack was going to Kent State to study Psychology. Brady, to the University of California, San Diego to study cinematic film directing. Rob was off to Boston University to study Biochemistry. And me? Well, I was heading off to the big apple…New York University, with a double major in creative writing and English and a minor in French. From there, there was no knowing where the roads would take us, but for now, here we were, the four of us: Jack Hartman, Braedon Becks, Rob Groshkho, and me, Summer LaManche. For now, we were together, and that=s all that mattered.

Beauty in the Shadows

Aesthetic Advocate — Fri, 09 May 2008 22:30:42 +0000

Surrounded by darkness

shadows dance

lurid shapes

nothing more than

just another nightmare

yet, a fearful reality

ghosts of the past

whisk away all hopes

and dreams

demons clouding your vision

they break you

‘till your mind is

a piece of freshly dead meat

and your body is numb

to all pain

emotionless and senseless

you have become one of them

no soul

yet, light creeps in through the corners

rays of beauty

through crevices you never knew were there

lift up your arms and scream

scare them all

frighten them

‘till only deadly traces of their scent remain

a dazzling brightness from above

and you have let them go.