He never heard her whisper. . . . . .

By ' Stevenson Jean-Charles







Chapter 1
Stairway to Heaven





A wise man once said:
'As happens sometimes a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone'�.
That moment was my life. The life that I believed I lived. I am now twenty one, at legal age to do what I please. But there's nothing in this world I could want more than her. It seems like every story now of days continues to have a theme of the one who got away. I don't need to base a book on her, she deserves more then a book. She deserves the world. Boy, where do I start? So much to say, well first let me tell you who I am. I'm Joey; I lived in Laguna Beach, California. The place where the devil lay its eggs, I'll tell you, at a glimpse you would think everyone has it together, but this town is a walking Prozac popping, vodka guzzling son of a bitch. Multiple glasses of white Zinfandel sit at the table of the restaurant at which I worked. 'Handle them with care'� says the manager. 'Fuck you'� says my head. And then I black out, to a world far, far away. Where your net worth doesn't predict the type of life you'll live or the type of life your children would live. I grew up with my mom; we lived in a stable household and were middle class until my mom hit the lotto. Or the 'gift from god'� as she says. That wasn't a gift, because to be completely honest with you, all it did was bring more issues to us. Yes, we didn't have to worry where our next meal was coming from, but it hurt to have to think about how much we lost. We lost family, friends, and eventually our self-respect. I remember it like it was the Ghost of Christmas Past. I sat in the bedroom eating Lucky Charms; Mom had bought me lucky charms and not the generic brand of cereal. I was ecstatic; it wasn't the fact that the cereal tasted good, it was the fact that my mom bought it for me. I later learned that she passed on getting her eyebrows done so she can buy me that box of cereal. So anyway, I sat down on the floor reading my X-men comic book. Then suddenly I heard the door slam shut, I ran to the living room to find my mom searching for her glasses, I looked under the coffee table to find it and handed it to her. She put it on rather quickly and read the ticket, then looked at the newspaper; she jumped out her seat and yelled at the top of her lungs:

'WE WON, WE WON, THE LOTTERY JOEY, WE WON!'�

I grabbed the ticket from her and flattened it down on my bare stomach. And read the numbers, I jumped with her and cried. That was probably the last day I really had a moment with my mom, I mean a real moment, not the crappy after school special ones, a unique one, one that stands out and reminds me of something completely random of her. For example; her telling me to take out the garbage reminds me of soap, this soap my mom brought, the smell of that soap stayed on me through out the day, and cologne wasn't necessary, that's how strong the smell was. That's the sort of memory I want to have in my mind, not the crappy after school special ones.

Well anyway, after hitting the big jackpot, we moved to Laguna. I liked it in the beginning because all I did was party and shop and travel, I mean who wouldn't like to do that everyday? But I quickly grew tired of it; I needed something to entertain me, and to make me feel alive. That's when I convinced my mom to let me take a year off of high school to move to Africa. I was supposedly going to find the meaning of life and all. Little did I know she would enroll me in a hell hole of a place that was supposed to turn me into a man. A man my ass, that place was run by pedophiles and sadistic serial killers, all looking to rid us of our innocence. It was the hypocrisy of that place that killed me. The motto was: 'Enter here a boy and leave a man'�. What peace of shit is that? That motto was painted on every one of our doors in that place. It was called J-Danjis. In J-Danjis you were either a rich spoiled kid who needed a taste of the real world or you were a delinquent with no sense of direction. I tell you, this world has you categorized into a couple of sections. You would think us as people would get more then a couple of sections, but nope, nothing. I roomed with Donald Jades; he was a junior when I was a freshman so I barely saw him because he was always out. Our curfew at J-Danjis was based on our academic level. Donald was a pretty ok guy. Well groomed, kept the place clean, never did anything to further upset the teachers. I would always wonder why he was there. What did he do to make him reside at this god forsaken place?

It was Sunday and all the master's men were supposed to meet down by the docks to gather up for church. Old Donald didn't feel like going, I told him that they'll be a price to pay but he didn't listen. Everyone wore there best clothes to church, as if it were this grand event. Like the Madonna was going to be there. I don't really believe in God, and truth is I don't have a reason to not believe in him. Who has a reason towards why there's all this violence and sorrow in the world? No one, and if God's suppose to be so holy why does he put us through so much, so much that some people can't handle and give up. Gods' a marketing tool, if you disagree, then answer this: why do we give money in church? The homeless people I use to live near never changed but the church said the money they receive from us will be given to the homeless.

So anyway, we're standing by the docks with Professor Jared waiting for this new teacher. Jared was this fat tub of lard who taught math, his breath always stunk of Paus, an African breakfast mint that suppresses hunger. They eat it over here on account of they have no food, plus it leaves them full for a long time.

So yeah, this teacher we were waiting on: She was going to be our English teacher. I don't care much for English; it's another load of crap. I have enough shit in my life going on, why would I go and read an idiots account of his thoughts? I hardly read books. Well, I did read this one book on summer vacation with my mom, they had left this book in our room in the hotel. It was The Catcher in the Rye, I guess it was okay. That guy Holden was prince, calling people phonies and all, he's a fucking A. I was facing the water playing back a song I heard on the flight over here.

It was Elliot Smith's ' Say Yes. It's a great song, it really is. To bad he had to die, I would've bought his CD. So anyway while facing the water, looking at the fish, I hear Jared apologizing like a madman. I turn around to see Jared looking over board to the water, I ran over to see what all the commotion was about. When I got over there I saw her. Her name was Felicity. I got on my knees and leaned over.
'Give me your hand'� I said.
She had a pink flower dress on and these big glasses. After I pulled her out the water and caught my breath I looked over to her and smiled. She smiled back and optioned out her hand,
'I'm Ms Van Saint'�.
'Hi I'm Joey'�,
'Thank you Joey, if it weren't for you I would've been eaten up by sharks'�

I laughed and got up. On account of our clothes being so wet, we were excused from church, but the rest of the boys had to go. While walking back to the dorms I struck up a conversation with her.

'So, where are you from?'�
'New York'�
'Oh wow, that's great, do you miss it?'�
'Well I've only been here a couple of days; I can't really miss it now can I?'�
'I guess not'�.
'Were there only bad teaching jobs in New York that you had to come all the way to Africa?'�
'No there's a lot of great jobs in New York, I just joined the peace corps and was stationed here, my mentor had to go back home so we're on a 3 month hiatus, I figured I'll make some extra money while here, so I got a job teaching at this school'�.
'Oh'�
We were a couple of blocks away from the school when we heard a bunch of yelling. We ran over to see what was going on. As we're hovering upon the dorms we see a trail of blood near our feet. I don't why but old Donald quickly hit my mind. I ran to where the crowd was and broke through. That's when I saw him, he looked horrible, and his face was completely disfigured. A few seconds later Ms. Van Saint came over and looked, she was startled by all the blood and gush so she turned around and put her face on my shoulder. In that second I stopped thinking about old Donald's face that was splattered over the pavement, I was thinking about her head on my shoulder. It only lasted a second though, I guess she got caught up with reality and remembered I was a student. I didn't mind though, it actually felt good, to have a sense of being leaned on.


They had to delay the funeral for a couple of days because old Donald's parents had to fly in. I could only imagine how it feels to be that guy; the guy to call up old Donald's parents and tell them that there child committed suicide. It must've been hell for his parents. I kind of felt like shit also. I roomed with the poor kid. I should've seen it, I should've been able to do something, but it's hard when a person doesn't communicate with you or anything. I spent the next few days in my room, it was weird, because the last time I saw him was the most we've ever spoken. Imagine if I could've done something to make him change his mind. Maybe shoot the shit with him for a while. That could've changed him.

I sat in my room for two days straight. Not for any in particular reason, just because I wanted to. I listened to the same two CD's all day long. Pink Floyd's ' The Wall and Led Zeppelin's ' The Song Remains the Same disc 2. I like Stairway to Heaven a lot. I could listen to it all day. That song kind of made me think about Donald, that poor kid was walking his stairway to Heaven, or rather jumping from it . . . . . .
Chapter 2
No Psycho Analyses

The funeral was held at the church we all were going to the day Old Donald passed away. I wore the same suit, and Ms. Van Saint wore the same pink dress, hold the glasses. We didn't talk that the day but when I made eye contact with her, she sort of winked at me, on account of the fact we had the same clothes on the first time we met. Hey, great minds think alike.

The funeral was very emotional, mostly because Old Donald's parents were in the front row, and you could hear his mom sobbing throughout the whole mass. It was really sad. Some where during the middle I heard Jared say my name, I was a bit dazed out, but when I caught up with reality I heard Jared say

'Want to come up Joey and share a few words about Donald?
You were his roommate'�

The dick! I can't believe he would do that, I couldn't turn his parents down, they were crying and looking at me with such sorrow in there eyes.

So I got up and walked to the podium. My hands were sweating and my knees were about to put out. I got up and there and looked around the room, I started out saying

'Donald was a great guy'�

I froze up and couldn't say anything. Nothing would come out my mouth. Then my eyes sort of glanced over to Ms. Van Saint, she was smiling, the same smile she gave me the day I pulled her out from the water. Then something came to my head. It was a quote my mom had told me when I was little right before I went to sleep. I was in such a hurry that I didn't stop to evaluate it and see if it were appropriate for this event. But I went for it.

"Every song has a coda, a final movement. Whether it fades out or crashes away. Every song ends. But is that any reason not to enjoy the music?"

Oh shit, oh shit, I fucked up, and everyone is staring at me. The whispers get louder and faces grow long, I FUCKED UP.

Then the fucking idiot Jared comes up and thanks me and tells me to go back to my seat. I was almost going to sit down, until I felt like I wanted to die, tears fell out my eyes and I started to walk away. I passed by Ms. Van Saint and quickly glimpsed at her, she saw the tears and grabbed my hand. With tears falling down my eyes I turned around. She moved over and opened up a seat for me, I sat down next to her. I started to cry even harder. She opened her purse and gave me a napkin. Thoughts are racing through my head, I felt like I want to be in Donald's place, I want to be in that casket, not here.

I got up a few minutes before the mass let out, I let go of Ms. Van Saint's hand and got up, she understood. I went to the front of the church and sat down. I was behind a pole and couldn't be seen by anyone coming out of the church. Then I heard a voice,

'Good speech'�

I turned around and looked; it was a face that I wasn't familiar with.

'What?'�

'I said good speech'�
I'm glad you think so'�
'So what if they didn't understand it, if we went through life understanding everything and everyone around us, this will be a pretty fucked up world wouldn't it?'�
'Yeah I guess'�
'I'm James, but that's Mr. Cohen to you'�

I had a confused face

'I'm your guidance counselor'� he said.
'Oh'�

I took his hand and shook it.

I was ready to get up and go back to my room because I knew he would come up with some questions for me, some guidance counselor questions. But he didn't, he just sat there with me, we said no words.

They gave us the following week off because of the funeral, there exact words was

'Everyone needed to get back to life'�

What crock of shit, this school bothers the hell out of me. We as students were suppose to be going back to life and there was a party going on two doors down from me. While Red hot chili peppers blew out my walls. I sat on my bed and watched some mind numbing television. The only exception to the week off was that we were supposed to show up this morning to get some assignments from our teachers. I didn't go, because I felt like shit. It was like I had a hangover from crying. Thirty Five minutes into Sponge Bob Square Pants I felt the sudden urge for a drink. I get these quite often. I'm not a heavy drinker or anything, I just like it. It makes me feel invincible.

So I got up and put on my black trench coat. My mom had sent it to me the morning of the funeral. It was really cool. It was long and had a big belt. That went around the whole jacket. What I liked about it the most was that I could wear anything under it and no one could judge because they wouldn't know. This trench coat was kind of like my mask.

Everyone walks around with a mask in this world. Only showing people what they want them to see. That's how this world works, and I doubt it'll ever change.

So I get up and put on my trench coat and walked out my room. They had taken Donald's bed out this morning, so the room was pretty empty.

I walked down the hall way and got to the door where the party was being held. There was a bunch of kids lined up against the wall with rainbow colored cups in there hand.

There were a few people dancing, and a few playing poker. I walked in and went straight to the keg.

It's beyond me how kids get a keg in Africa, let alone in this school. But I guess everyone has there demons. I filled my cup up with beer and headed towards the door. Almost suddenly this girl comes from the right side of the room and says, in a very drunk tone

'Aren't you the kid that made the speech in Donald's funeral?'�

I said 'yeah'�, and walked away. She yelled to me

'It's not your fault you know, he was walking time bomb'�

I turned around a bit frustrated and said

'Oh yeah, how do you know?'�

She hesitated a bit and after a few seconds, responded:

'Because I was his girlfriend'�

I was shocked, I didn't know what to say, I hardly knew the guy and here was his girlfriend in front of me. I went up to her and said

'I'm sorry'�

and walked away. She said

'It's alright'�.

I walked out of there fast; I had my beer in my hand and an open mind. I didn't feel like going to my room right that second so I kind of walked around the other way. I was taking a wild chance at walking around the school with a beer in my hand because our teachers and faculty stayed in the same building as us. So while walking pass the stairway I started to feel depressed as hell, I even started to think of old Donald, sitting way up in heaven looking at me making a fool of myself. I barely knew the guy and I felt so sad.

While sipping on my beer I pass room 3443, the door swings open and I hear
'Joey'�
I turned around to see Mr. Cohen standing there, I held the cup in my left hand and walked up to him and shook his hand with my right.

'Hey how are you doing?'�
'Fine and you'�
'Oh, I'm doing well'�
'Do you live here?'�
'As a matter of fact I do'�
'Oh, cool'�
'Yeah, so what are you doing?'�
'Oh nothing, just walking around'�
'If you're not in a hurry, you can come in and talk, I'm suppose to do this stupid student evaluation here but that's boring, but if you just want to come in and talk'�

You know normally I wouldn't go on account of it being against my morals and all but I said

'Yeah, sure'�

His room smelled like feet and looked even worst. What I did like about it was the posters on the wall. The Who, The Beatles, Joni Mitchell, Pink Floyd, Jimmy Hendrix, The Clash, Black Sabbath, Led Zep. All my favorite bands.

'You like The Beatles?'� I asked
'I sure do, but I wasn't alive to see them in concert, that's my dad's poster, he gave it to me'�
'Cool'�
'Yeah it is'�

It was kind of awkward the first few minutes; mainly because the beer was starting to kick in and I was sitting in the presence of a teacher. We were in the middle of having a conversation about our favorite movies when he got up and put on a record. He put on Led Zeppelin's ' Stairway to Heaven. I almost spilled my beer when I heard it, how ironic right? We sat there and just listened. It was about 2am, I got up and walked up to him, and I gave him a handshake and said thanks. He grabbed my hand and said

'You got balls kid, you sat there and drank that beer and didn't think twice'�

I pulled back startled and said

'Sorry'�
He said
'Don't apologize, don't get into that habit, did you want to drink that beer?'�

I responded 'yes'�,
'Then why did you apologize?'�
'I don't know, it felt right'�
'I'm not the police'�

Then he opened his fridge to expose a six pack. He picked one and threw it at me, I caught it and said
'Thanks Mr. Cohen'�
Then he said
'It's James'�
I walked out giddy as hell.
'Ok James, see ya'�.

I walked to my room drinking the beer. When I got to the door, I started to think about all the poster's on his wall and how I wanted to be just like that when I was older, never changing, still being the person I am now, no matter what songs are out I will never forget Stairway to heaven.

I was kind of dizzy so I was fidgeting through my keys.

When I opened the door I saw Donald's girlfriend standing near the window. I walked in and put my keys on the night stand near my bed. She said:

'You know he liked you'�
'He did?'�
'Yeah he talked about you, the roommate who loved Led Zeppelin'�

I laughed.
'It's sad he had to go'�
'Well yeah we all have to eventually'�
She walked over to my bed and tripped. I walked over to her and helped her. I sat down on the bed near her. She grabbed the beer out of my hand and took a swig.

'Don't you think you've had enough?'�
'Nope, I'm just getting started'�
'Well, you need to chill out for a while'�
'Why? So I could end up a dead fuck like him?'�
'Don't say that'�
'No, fuck you Joey, you don't know, he promised he wouldn't leave me, he fucking promised'�

'I grabbed her hand just like Ms. Van Saint grabbed mines and sat her next to me. I hugged her and whispered in her ear
'He didn't leave, he's up there'�

I felt a damp spot on my shirt and then I realized she was crying. She lay down near me and I just held her, the way I thought Donald would hold her. She cried throughout the night.

A few minutes after holding her she turned around and hugged me. Then she stayed there for a while. She moved her face closer to mine and kissed me. I jumped up and said
'We can't'�

She said
'Why?'�

Truth is I couldn't think of anything, I know Donald is an obvious reason but it wasn't that. I couldn't do it, I wasn't feeling too sexy. You really got to be in the mood for that sort of thing, you know having sex with girls, if you're not in the mood, it'll ruin everything.
She got up and moved next to me and said

'No one will know Joey'�.

She started touching me down there, I'm not going to say where but you get the idea. That's when I pulled back and told her to leave. I didn't know what was going on.
'Sleep with her you fucking idiot'� was what was going through my head. She grabbed her purse and walked out the door. I sat on the floor the whole night sobbing like a mad man. I don't know what was going on.






















Chapter 3
Trapped in my own skin. . . . . .

I ended up sleeping on the floor that night. When I got up I didn't feel like doing anything, not even showering. I got up and went straight to my Vinyl collection. There's was only one thing I wanted to hear and that was Led Zeppelin's stairway.

I went to the album and a post it I never noticed before sat there. It was from Donald. I froze up, my mouth got dry. I opened the CD flap and there was a paper in it. It said

'Hey Joey, SORRY we didn't get to know each other better, I promise we will eventually'� then there was a letter, I opened it and it read

My Life Story

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And called it "Chops" Because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
and left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing" Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen

I started to vomit on the floor; I dropped the letter and opened the door. James was walking right near my door and pulled me to the bathroom. After vomiting pretty much everything I had ate the night before which was little,
James sat on the sinks and asked me if it was the beers that made me vomit, I said no and told him to come with me to my room. After he came with me and I showed him the letters. He took the letters and walked out the room. I sat on the floor crying again. This has become a usual thing'�.

































Chapter 4
The Truth


I spent that whole day in my room, which is until James came in and told me to come hangout in his room. I didn't feel like going but I went anyway. I don't know but a lot of the time when I don't feel like doing anything, I end up doing it anyway. So we went to his room and just hung out. He didn't say anything, just sat on his computer. He would often look back and offer me a soda or something else.
Then he turned off the computer monitor and told me a story. I don't know why he told me this story, or even why I'm telling you this but it really meant something to me. I remember it a little, not everything but here's what I could put together.

James grew up in Oyster Bay Long Island. That's in New York. So anyway, he went to a catholic school near his house. Growing up he was a regular kid, played ball with the local kids and hung out at the bowling alley. Towards the end of his High School year, James dabbled in drugs. He wasn't a druggie or anything but he did experiment. He didn't go deep into detail but he did tell me that he tried cocaine and grew a liking to it. He worked in the local Pizza Parlor so every check he would get he'll use for partying and eventually drugs. When he was 19 he weighed 104 pounds. When he was 18 he weighed 175 and now he was 104. His parents started to notice and staged an intervention, that's when James moved out.

The pizza shop at which he worked was right around the corner from his home so he really couldn't stay there. He moved in with his friend Gabrielle and found himself in a lot of mess. But all that was going to change the day he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He vowed that day never to do coke anymore. He in fact did relapse two times after that but it wasn't anything serious.

At that point my eyes started to swell up like watermelons and I began to cry. I happen to cry a lot since I reached this fucking place; I hate that. James got up and gave me a knuckle to knuckle handshake. He then told me that I shouldn't cry.
'Tears are just showers of the heart'�.
I got up and gave him a hug. I don't know why but it kind of felt appropriate. I let go and left the room.

I went to bathroom and sat on the toilet seat and started to cry. Thinking of James in the hospital waiting for the doctors to give him his results made me sore as hell. I even felt sorry for the doctor who had to give him the results. I felt sorry for about everyone in the world at that point.

I got up from the toilet and pulled some toilet tissue out from the role and wiped my eyes. It was one of those moments where you just felt sad as hell and couldn't control it'�.




That next morning I got up early to get ready for breakfast. They were having a breakfast for everyone in our dorm, normally I wouldn't go but I kind of wanted to see Ms. Van Saint. Thank her for what she did at the funeral. I went down to the showers and did what I had to do.

When leaving the bathroom I saw Donald's girlfriend. I said 'hi'� but she didn't respond. She didn't have any type of facial expression, she was blank. When I got down to the J-Danjis cafeteria I sat near Ms. Van Saint. She was happy to see me and I was happy to see her also. While Jared was giving his usual speech on how it's an honor to teach us, I looked around for James. But there wasn't any sign of him. I wasn't worried or anything but I just thought he would be there.
When the breakfast started I stayed seated. I wasn't too hungry so I just hung out at my table. Ms. Van Saint leaned over my shoulder and whispered 'How are ya?'� I got up and followed her on the buffet line. I grabbed a plate and made my way near the front of the line. When I got to her I responded:
'Pretty good and yourself?'�
'Alright, I'm not a big fan of school functions'� she said
'Nor am I, I'm just here for the food'�
'You're funny you know that'�
'Thank you'�

She sat down and started to eat. She had wonderful teeth, great ones. The only thing was that they weren't white, and I had no problem with that. Anyone else I would've been pretty mad but I wasn't mad. I was pretty happy.

After the breakfast was over I walked over to the student elevator and pressed the button. Ms. Van Saint followed. We walked into the elevator and there was nothing but complete silence. Then she said
'You know anytime you have a question or want to talk about anything that pertains to English you could email me'�

Then she pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down her e-mail address.

FVsaint@danjisschool.edu

She walked out of the elevator and I stood there. With the e-mail in my hand and an open mind I was infinite. I waited to I got to the 3rd floor and got out. I went straight to James room to tell him the good news.

I didn't want to say her name so I used a fake name. Janice to be exact.

When I knocked on the door he took sometime to open, I figured he was just busy and all. When he opened the door, I asked him
'Can I please use his computer?'�
He said 'sure anytime'�.

I still have a copy of the email I wrote her, looking back at it, it's quite the email.

Dear Ms Van Saint,

Hi it's Joey, it's only a few minutes after receiving your email address from you, but I thought it'll be appropriate. I want to start first with telling you a bit about me, I'm Joey, 16 years old. I'm from Laguna Beach, California. At first sight it's a great place but deep inside it's horrible. The people are all on something and the kids are all going to be on something. It's a world of cycle I tell you. I know you said only write you about things that pertain to English but I figure this: I never liked English, well any subject for that matter. And I think I know why. I wasn't interested. But now that I have a great teacher to show me things that I've never learned before, I think it's only right that I give it a chance. So Ms. Van Saint, this is my declaration of honor to you pertaining to English. If you accept, have a written syllabus on my desk tomorrow morning (just kidding)

Sincerely,
Joey


That was a pretty good email for a start right? I thought at least.

Months went on and the emailing between me and Ms. Van Saint got stronger. For me that was, I was always shooting forward while she was taking a step back. I don't know what exactly was going through my head at this point but I must have been going through something weird.

So everyone's in English class writing a report on the book Night by Elie Weisel. All of a sudden I got the urge to be more then friends with Ms. Van Saint. I've always had feelings for her but this time was different. It must have been the last e-mail she sent me. It was really heartbreaking.

A few days ago she had wore that pink dress with flowers she loved, and when I saw her I found it amusing as hell. No one else did but me, and she understood why. So after school I go to James room and wrote her an Email. I hardly remember it but I do remember the line that I used that made her write me back such an emotional reply.

It was
'If I knew you were going to where the pink dress, I would've wore my suit'�

I found it funny as hell and I think deep inside she did also, but she wrote back a very emotional email. I still have that email; it's the saddest piece of work I've ever read in my life. This is it.

Dear Joey,
That dress you speak of, do you know its legacy? I don't think you do, but let me inform you. When I was little I was quite the tomboy. I never did anything all the girls did. All the girls would go to all the local parties and school dances, while I played soccer and football with the so called 'dorks and geeks'�. Part of my reason for not being such a tomboy was because growing up I never was loved. I know that seems a little irrational but it was the truth. My perception of love was all over the place. My relationship with my parents was shit. 'Why don't you be more like your sister Jenna?'� 'Jenna has a boyfriend, why don't you'� I grew completely obsessed with the thought of being different. I cut my hair low, wore baggy jeans and never really did things that 'normal'� girl my age did. So one day my dad comes home from work and gets me a doll. I despised that doll and all that it stood for, but it was appealing like hell. So I played with it. When my dad saw me walking around with that doll in my hand, his face lit up. He was happy to see that I was being the daughter he created. Months pasted and I let my hair grow. I was moving on a slow pace to excessive feminism. I was 14 at the time and we had a class trip to Boston. It was the trip to end all trips and I was picked to be the student advisor. I was ecstatic, finally; everything my parents wanted and dreamed for was coming into play. I woke up the day of the trip extra early; my mom had bought me a pink flower dress to wear on the trip. This was the first dress I would've ever worn in my life since I was a little kid. I put on the dress and pink ribbon in my hair. My dad said 'You look radiant'� That was the first time I ever heard him use those words towards me and not Jenna. It felt good, great rather. My mom was head of the P.T.A association and told me that I had to be at the school at 10am sharp. I was awake since 6am, that's how happy I was. Around 9am I told my mom lets get going. She drove me over there and when I reached in front of the school I saw no one, just this little 7th grader who was standing in the rain with a notebook over his head. I sat near the bus stop for 20 minutes waiting for the teacher to appear. Rain dripped down my face and down my clothes. Around 9:42 the little 7th grader that had been standing there for several minutes came up to me. 'Are you Felicity Van Saint?'� yes I said. Oh, Ms. Kellie sent me. You were supposed to be here at 8am but there was no sign of you so they left. She said she apologize if you got the time mixed up and you have to come to the office. I sat in the office in my pink flower dress and pink ribbon till school was over. When it was 4pm, I waited out front for someone to come pick me up but no one did, everyone thought I was on the trip. I walked the 14 blocks home. When I got there I found my mom passed out on the couch with a bottle of rum near her. I went up to my room and sobbed for hours. No one even knew I was home until I came downstairs while everyone was having dinner. I sat in my seat silent. Everyone asking me questions like 'why aren't you on the trip'�. The first time I put on that dress was the worst day of my life. A year ago I found the same dress in a thrift store and bought it. I wear this dress whenever I need that extra boost, when I know I can't handle it all on my own, that dress is what makes me get through it. So there's your psycho analysis Dr. Phil'�'�

Sincerely,
Ms. Van Saint


I cried the first time I read that email. Not because it hurt her so much to be in the rain while everyone was having fun on the trip. It was because I wasn't there to help her, help her like she helped me that day at the funeral. I was a wreck. I excused myself from Mr. Cohen's room and went to the bathroom. I fell in the bathroom sobbing like a madman. That's when Mr. Cohen came in and sat there with me. No words, just the noise of my cries. He didn't even bother to ask why I was crying. I guess that's the good thing about these teachers, even if they see you crying, they never ask you why.




Chapter 5
On steady water

James and I grew closer, so did Ms. Van Saint and I. I didn't know how to respond to her e-mail so I didn't. I stopped writing her after that. I don't think there was anything I could've said that would've made a difference to her story.

I felt like I had nothing to give to her, nothing at all. I was a 16 year old kid, what much can I give a 28 year old woman. It was hard to even think of being with her.


James and I hung out more often, he was starting to be like the brother I never had. He and I would spend hours talking about movies, music, girls and how it was back home for us. It was really cool.

James hardly gave me any shit about my grades. I did great in school in my opinion. I got 65 in all my other classes but in English I got a 97. It was ironic because if someone would've came to me and told me that I would be getting awesome grades in English, I would've told that lying fuck to get a moving, but its true.
I even read The Catcher in the Rye again. That book is my all time favorite. I feel like we all have a piece of Holden Caulfield in us. That's just what J.D Salinger wanted. He wanted us to see that he wasn't writing about this one kid named Holden. He was writing about every single kid in this world who is breathing.

I wrote this essay for Ms. Van Saint, it was called Total Misconception; it was an essay on The Catcher in the Rye. She loved it, and as much as she didn't want to admit it: it was one of the best pieces of writing she's read all year. I love writing now; I do it more and more often. Well whenever I'm not hanging out with James, I'm writing in my room.

Want to know something else? I know what my pink dress is, you know: the pink dress I told you about. The one that helps Ms. Van Saint stay above water, when she's drowning and all. Yeah, I know what mine is. It's Stairway to Heaven. I think I've always known but I just never thought about it.

My birthday's coming up. I haven't told anyone yet, I don't want people to fuss around for me. It's not necessary for them to do that, they should celebrate it for themselves, and at least they'll be happy.




Chapter 6
The end of innocence and life as we know it'�'�

I walked in to my room soaking wet. I took off all my clothes and got under my covers. My hands and arms were trembling like mad men and I couldn't remember what just happened.

'Open the door Joey'� James said
'No, leave me alone, I don't want to talk now James'� I said,
'Joey I have to talk to you open the door'�
'No I can't do that; he said he won't let me open up'�
'Who said they won't let you open the door Joey? Who's in there with you?'�
'Donald said don't open up, you're a bad man'�
'Donald's dead Joey'� said James
'He said you'll say that James'�. He said you'll fucking say that'�

'I'm sorry Joey; I didn't mean to, I'm sorry'�
'Fuck you James, you knew I loved her, you knew it and you did it anyway'� you fucking asshole, you did it anyway'�
'Joey open the FUCKING DOOR'�
'I'm sorry'� Joey's not here right now'� '�'�

















Chapter 7
'�'�'�'�

That was July 12th. The day I walked in on Mr. Cohen and Ms. Van Saint sleeping together.

My mom had just sent me this mouse I asked her for from California. Ms. Van Saint's mouse wasn't working so I decided to get her one. I really wanted to continue emailing her so she needed the mouse to further continue. As I'm walking to her room I decide to make a detour at Mr. Cohen's room. I decided I was finally going to tell him about Ms. Van Saint.

The bastard knew, he fucking knew I loved her.

I later found out that, one day when I was writing an email to her on his computer, I didn't sign off. So he went into my email and read the letters I had sent her. He wrote numerous emails to her and they started to fall for each other.

That day when I walked in on them, I don't know what I was madder about. The fact that he was my friend and did that to me or the fact that she was sleeping with him.

It's not there fault, it's mine. I expected too much from them. They weren't anything more to me then my teachers. I was a fool to think otherwise.

When I left Africa and went back to California, I received plenty of e-mails from the both of them, saying stupid things like 'We can only be friendly, not friends'� and 'You have our relationship confused, we are not friends, we are Guidance Counselor and student, I'm sorry if I've done something to make you think differently'�

The nerves of them, I don't know what I was thinking. I was completely over my head. I'm a fucking idiot.

Since I've enrolled in this institution I've felt numb. Number then usual, maybe it's the drugs or the lack of communication with the outside world. I don't know but its better. Better then having to deal with people treating you like something you're not'�..









Last Chapter

Looking back at my last entry I laugh because I was so naïve.

I've changed since then. I've become a better person.

I think you'll like to know that Mr. Cohen and Ms. Van Saint got married. There THE COHEN'S NOW!!

I was the best man at his wedding. I didn't know what to say, so I just used a quote. I think you'll like it'�.


'Remember tonight, for this is the beginning of always. A promise, like a reward for persisting through life so long alone. A belief in each other. A decision to simply ignore or rise above the pain of the past. A covenant which binds two souls yet severs prior ties. A celebration of the chance taken and the challenge that lies ahead. For two will always be stronger than one, like a team raised against the tempests of the world. And love will always be the guiding force in our lives. For tonight is a mere formality, only an announcement to the world of feelings long held, promises made long-ago in the sacred space of our hearts."

That's all I'm going to tell you about my trip to Africa. That's all you deserve. I know you'll want to know more, but this is what I have to do. I'll tell you this: Never tell people to much, because you'll end up missing them like hell when there gone.

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