sonia glen. - 1Mature

A story of a introspective 17 year old boy who falls in love with an unreachable girl.

 

Still Alive

 

          “I do not believe in failure, I believe in not conforming to right answers.” Dorian Spitzer said as he ended his five minute long speech on the difference between failing a class and wanting to purposely have a bad grade to be a non-conformist. The assignment was to present a unique philosophy that you incorporate in your day to day life. Mr. Arch was our teacher, skinny and tall. He looked down at us with his sad blue eyes, his hair fighting the battle for color, and losing. As Spitzer sat back down to his desk Mr. Arch looked around the room and tried to pretend that this philosophy on failing classes was an actual philosophy and not an excuse for why Spitzer has failed three semesters of Psychology 1 at Frasier High School in Buffalo New York. “Thank you Mr. Spitzer, that was both inspiring and revealing. I'll take all this in mind when I'm giving you your final grade this year.” The class laughs, Arch smiles. The type of smile that has only been made when someone’s existence has just been verified.

         

          The classroom was filled with posters that were supposed to motivate some sort of importance towards psychology. The typical poster of Einstein sticking out his tongue, hung on the back of the door. Our eyes met regularly when I walked out at the end of class. A symphony orchestra of squeaking was taking place, it was raining that day. The next presenter arose from his desk. I didn't care to listen this one. I tuned out whatever nonsense he was talking and looked out the window. It’s fall of senior year, and Buffalo acted the way it should in fall, it rained. The raindrops, they made me think of so many things. I need to focus in one memory, Sonia Glen. Her desk was empty today, it normally is. She was on the bus today. Where could she be?

 

          In first grade Sonia Glen and I were boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Are you going to eat that apple sauce?” Sonia asked me with a very annoyed voice.

Even as a child I was cunning and just fucking evil.

          “I'll let you have it if you be my girlfriend.” Sonia looked at the applesauce and then back at me. Even then I remember her eyes just radiating sadness. She said ok. And for three days she was my girlfriend. Until Robert Heart showed up and took her away from me. Sonia never seemed to be happy to do anything, or to be around. When I looked at her I saw this infinite deep dark abyss. That not even the most advanced submarine invented could ever explore. But most of all I always wondered how something so terrifying can be wrapped up by something so beautiful. Although Sonia’s past was a mystery to nearly everyone, I’ve managed to figure some things out. She moved to Buffalo when she was 7 years old. And she moved here alone from somewhere in Michigan. The fact she lives with her grandparent’s most likely means her parents left or died. Either one could create a monster, in Sonia’s case a beautiful one. She was the one attractive girl in school that guys wouldn't flock to because she scared the shit out of them. The scariest part about her is that she looked as normal as any other girl, but she was different. She would be like a clown fish opening its mouth to reveal 3 rows of jagged sharp teeth. That’s what Sonia Glen was like.

 

          Sonia Glen seemed as unreachable as the moon to me. I would need to build a rocket ship that not only can go to the moon, but can go to the bottom of the ocean. Seventeen year old loner high schoolers don’t have that technology. I ran away from home when I was fifteen. It was raining just like today, if not more. I ran to the bridge in Pool Park. As I ran past all the empty play grounds and swing sets that were painted with a shade of night I saw myself as a kid being held by my parents while they pushed me on the swings or caught me at the end of the slide so I wouldn't hurt myself. It's sad how we always lose the people waiting for us at the end of the slide. As I watched different aged versions of myself these memories always seemed so happy, but were they honestly? Who knows? But the thought that they might not have been happy is one that I will not fuck with. The rain drops had their way with my hair and my clothes. When I made it to the bridge I climbed to the top where the gravel met with the underbelly of the bridge. It was pitch black but I wasn't afraid, this sort of darkness didn't scare me anymore. Fear from darkness becomes weak when you constantly surround yourself in it.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

I didn't know who it was, but when the voice processed in my mind I realized it was a girl. A dark figure approached me; I heard a lighter click and all was revealed.

 

“Sonia? What are you doing here?”

 

Sonia looked displeased with me being here. “I can't smoke if your here.” Sonia said quietly.

 

“Why not?”

 

          Sonia kissed me, the rest of the night was history. I held her small fragile yet deadly hands in mine. We were intertwined by nothing but fate and chance, one tiny little thing could kept me from running away that night. The universe intended for us to be at the center of it for just one night. Even if there were no feelings involved.  The concept of liking someone to Sonia didn't really apply. We didn't have sex if that’s what you're thinking happened. For the first time in my life I had a full conversation with Sonia Glen, and it lasted well over four hours. She shared her thoughts and outlooks on life, but nothing about herself. I didn’t expect her to though. My favorite thing she said was her theory that human bodies are created for the sole purpose of recreating. “There's a reason why people feel fulfilled and happy when they’re lying next to another human being they have feelings for, we are all puzzle pieces in this giant fucking puzzle that maybe God or someone else or anything else created. I like to imagine that we're a giant jigsaw puzzle on God's coffee table or something.” Her words are still echoing through my ears till this day. We covered ourselves in the blankets I got from home, my black Columbia back pack rested on the base of the bridge as we slept. I never thought I'd feel comfortable on gravel, She smelled like rain.

 

          When I woke up she was gone. When I saw her in class I tried talking to her and she pretended she didn't know me. I went back to the bridge a couple nights, she didn't show up. I'd like to call her a bitch but I felt lucky to get that far. She let me hold her in my arms, she let our hearts connect. My first thought was the possibility that where her heart is, lays the treasure at the bottom of the abyss. The presenter finished and went back down to his desk. I tuned back into Mr. Arch and his attempt to entertain us while being a new age teacher where not everything has to be boring. “Jean Trotsky, will you present next?” I got the jitters you get before you talk to a group of people. I grabbed my papers that I printed out this morning in the hour window I had to shower, eat, get dressed and make it on the bus. I think I forgot to eat; my memory isn't what it used to be. I got out of the desk and walked through the row, at this point you should know nobody likes me. A paper ball hit my head while I walk up to the front; I look back to some girls laughing. Mr. Arch has seen nothing, like usual. I get to the front and face thirty two faces that if tomorrow I saw were all dead not one tear would be shed. I took a breath and began reading. “When I looked at this assignment I thought it was another Archignment that really didn't make any sense but then I--”

 

The loud speaker clicked on, I could hear it echo through the halls outside. It was our principal Mr. Howard.

“Students of Frasier High School, I just received some heart breaking news.” He takes a pause; the whole school can now say they have heard their big bad principal cry. “Sonia Glen has passed away.” He kept talking but I heard none of it. My mind collapsed. 

The End

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