My story.

I am Hunter Van Doorn, this is my story.


     Today began as any other day of mine would begin, with me waking up and getting ready for school. I always feel an obligation to dress adequately as to impress everyone I see, for whatever reason I would think they care. I came to school expecting little, and received little in return. Nothing extraordinary happened, nor nothing ordinary. I left and came home to get ready for my show choirs fall concert, the last of which I will ever participate in. I smoked a cigarette on the way back and put it out before coming in.

     I continued throughout the course of the concert and I noticed my grandmother, mother, and siblings had come to watch my performance on stage. Usually they don't come but they all managed to come to this one. The choir left a few minutes after the completion of the concert to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, as a tradition of ours. I manage to sit next to someone I have an interest in and two other couples, so the dinner consisted of me watching them flirt with each other while I sat in silence, jumping from news reports to games on my phone. The girl I sat next to didn't have enough to get dinner, so I managed to convince her to let me buy her food. It was the last of my cash but I didn't want her to know. She must've missed the part where I didn't order any food, but I'm glad she did.

     I go outside and I decide to check under my hood due to the fact I was giving a few people rides home. The oil was slightly leaking, but there was no sign of major tears in the line and no dripping, so I decided it was safe to drive. I drop my friends off and I'm in the car with another interest of mine, someone whom I care deeply for and always had. We kissed each other and she left, leaving me to an empty car. By now I'm sure you are wondering what this is all about but there is a reason to why I'm letting you know all this. I look like any other man. I dress like any other man. I act like any other man. I am someone who goes to work, comes home, sleeps, then goes to school. But tonight I felt there was something in me telling me something wasn't alright.

"Like and old guitar, worn out and left behind, I have stories to tell, they're of the healing kind". Dallas Green wrote those words in one of his songs I've been drawn to lately.  My grandfather gave me his first guitar he ever owned and right now it sits in my room waiting to be fixed up and fully playable. What life am I living? What am I even doing in the madness of everything? Why do I pick myself up every day and keep going along like theres a purposeful meaning to what I do and how I do it. That guitar sits in my room because I have neither the money nor time to fix it.

     My father left me before I had a chance to know him. He decided against the opportunity to raise me as his son and left me to live with my mom. My mother has been divorced two times in my life since then and I am currently 18. I have less than a year until I spread my wings and fly into the world, which I have waited for for many many years. I smoke, I used to cut my wrists as a child, I would go days on end thinking of how I could make myself suffer for the things I have had to deal with. I never had someone to truly sit and tell me I was meaningful, loved, cared about, or anything of the sort. I was trying to figure out what I might have been doing wrong, and tried to fix it.

     Today I found myself looking at life with less of a passion than usual. Today I found that I am dissatisfied with what's happening in my life, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Today showed me that things can be wrong and will be wrong. I constantly think of a girl I used to love, and truly care about who left me. I think of my mother who will soon be telling me to leave for good. I think of the dad I never had leaving me to figure this world out without him. I think of my great-grandmother whom I used to sing Hallelujah to. Where can I go if I have nowhere to go? How I can I take myself away from the reminders and pain of continuing every day in this f*cked up society which poisons your mind, deprives your soul and degrades your morals?

     So I am sitting here currently with a few tears in my eyes wishing, praying, that something will change. That something will take this old guitar, worn out with life, broken by the wear of time, and make it new again. There are stories to be told within it and stories to be made. I can't keep going on like this. I'm slowly letting myself fall apart, and I can't fix it although I've tried. I'm trying to heal, and I'm trying to become better. As a person and a human alike.



So I'm asking whoever reads this, and if no one, God above me. Let this be a prayer from my heart to you. Give me some sign, a word, a love, a life. Something to tell me I'm going to be alright. Something to tell me to keep going.


Something to give me hope.




The End

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