I slid off the car feeling as though I was 100 degrees, and walked stiffly to the front door. I heard music and laughter coming from down the street. I turned around and saw 7 kids my age driving by in car. They had the roof down, their laughter contagious among them. Sunglasses on, radio just a little to loud with the bass shaking the concrete. Their cinnamon hair blowing, clinging to each other with the unbreaking bond of freedom.
I feel my eyes start to water; I know that feeling of freedom.
I know what it feels like to think that the world was against you, but being so in your own world you never could care. Nothing seemed to matter it was just my friends and I wearing a beautiful mask of defiance. Our friendship held together by a single promise, only to be ripped apart because the friendship was never truly honest.
I felt as if my heart lodged itself in my throat and stayed there unmoving just getting larger. My pain constantly swelling choking me almost lifeless. It was like I was drowning in my own sadness and pain and I didn’t know what to do. So I just do what I always do when I’m feeling hurt. I keep it lodged in my throat like the scream that never came, just a silent cry from my zipped lips.
I sweep up what’s left of my goals and dreams alone. No matter how many friends I had it always felt like I was alone picking up the beautifully shattered china glass that was my life. I only have memories of the days I thought I could do anything, when I thought the world was in the palm of my hand.

I was so young with an imagination that took me far and beyond the beautiful mountains and into the sky. It felt like I was drifting in space, but really I was running around the open space of the backyard using my bright red comforter as a cape. Eyes closed, I did nothing but feel the warm California morning breeze rub on my face. Listening to the air slide by my ears, the red comforter shielding me from the real world. I felt tears slide past my pale blue eyes.

I cried for my parents, the people I thought were my friends, but mostly myself. It was like once I started I couldn’t stop, like everything I was feeling had finally come up in a whirlwind of pain. I picked myself up and dragged what was left of my low self-esteem and my pitiful pride back to the car and drove home. My tears, all the streets lights mashing together making one crazy color, blurred the streets.

The wide rimmed car window with the ridiculously beautiful view that showed the ocean lying at the base of a mountain while, the sun crept behind it revealing the bright fluorescent moon. The view is what made me want to stay. The beauty of it all was impeccable. It was mesmerizing, and something I knew I wouldn’t forget