Story of My Life

Monique Non

The computer slammed shut in fury and despair. With every ounce of my power, each single iota of my being, my long, shockingly pale limbs hurled the pink covered Mac into the sandy oblivion beyond my sight. The eyes of the world were jubilantly gone for a moment. Completely separated for a second in time, my mind was reeling, yet somewhat blissful. Sitting on the beach unrestrained me, despite the situation at hand.  I watched the salty ocean waves rise and crash upon themselvs.  Gradually the globe of tangerine and coral color melted into the abyss of the horizon. I was furious! He had lied to me! He was no blonde-haired beauty; no way did his smile launch a thousand ships. All I could do was sit on the balmy beach, rethinking the boy I believed I was falling in love with.

 Ethan Gallant

A salty tear rolled down the creases of my leathery skin. Although my appearance never ceased to bother me, there was something about being insulted by her that made me feel worse than usual. She seemed so special, but I was fastened in her mirage of true love. Recently though, her chocolate brown locks were losing their shine. Furthermore, her eyes lost their spark and they were permanently replaced by a dullness that, no matter how hard I tried, I could never remove. The demons possessing her spirit were unbeknownst to me.

Monique Non

I longed for Ethan, and that was the truth. Unfortunately, I didn’t long for the scar-faced, ugly beast that he was. Frankly, I longed for the perfect appearance I had once thought he had. He was hesitant to send me his picture, and I clearly understand why — now.

Valerie Cortez, the bubbly Spanish rose, padded her way to my chaise. “I told you that the snack bar was closed! It’s the middle of winter, for Christ’s sake!”

“It’s only October, Val! It’s not that uncommon for a snack stand to be open in the fall.” I could feel my heart turn to an icy stone, but at least it soothed the pain from it being broken.

“Well, whatever! I don’t have time for your cynical persona today! Bring back the carefree Monique!” Valerie flashed a weak smile, hoping I would accept her attempt at an apology for not bringing me the French fries I had requested.

“Carefree? Is that all you expect me to be? Carefree?” I wailed. I seriously needed a trip to the spa. Spa days released my tention from the outside world.

“God, are you PMSing or what? Did I do something wrong? Because I can always go get some fries from that restuarant, since the snack bar is not open. Fries really aren’t that good for you, anyway. You have gained a few pounds, too. I can always tell—”

“Valerie, shut up!” I demanded. ”I’m depressed! Have some sympathy!”

“Depressed?” Valerie pondered the word in her mind, searching for a logical explanation for me to be depressed. I could see her eyes lighten as an idea popped into her brain. “Is this about that boy? That totally gorgeous one you met online? You didn’t get into a fight, did you? Hey! Where are you going? Don’t walk away from me! I could —”

I smirked to myself as I hiked up the sand dunes and Valerie’s voice trailed off out of earshot. Sure, she was my dearest friend, yet sometimes a heart can only take so much ignorance and pain. Therefore, I continued my way up to the boardwalk, trying to disconnect myself from the trouble and sorrow and leave it behind at my lounge chair. The beach and its crashing waves would forver represent my heart and the boy who had crushed it, even though I had no idea how much worse the depression was for Ethan.

Ethan Gallant

I glared down at the ballpoint pen and journal in my hands. Their cold, unforgiving appearance could only make me think of her heart. Though I vowed not to let her reaction bother me, I knew I would not be able to forget the look on her face during our first — and only — iChat. At first I could see astonishment, which I suspected, but then her soft features turned bitter. She seemed angry at me, as if I had a say in whether the scars on my face belonged there or not. Although the doctors promise my scars will go away eventually, I know the ones on my heart will not.

I opened the black, leather journal and clicked the pen to a writing position. I slowly etched in my darkest thoughts as three tears from my sea-blue eyes plopped onto the lined pages. I took about only one minute to write down my full entry; it was only four words. Those words were my heart’s deepest desire. Those words were “I want to die.”

The journal closed and was returned to it’s original spot beneath my bed. I flipped the light switch to darken my room, and silently cried myself to sleep.

I awoke to rays of gold filtered through my partially closed blinds. I squinted into the sunshine as my eyes adjusted to the day. Guilt seemed to squeeze my heart as I thought about the statement I had written in my journal the previous night. I knew it was untrue, but I still felt poorly. If only that girl would get to know me and not judge me on the way that I look. She seemed so sweet, but I now know otherwise.

Still, I know I would not be going anywhere if I did not attempt to solve my situation. I though it best to phone her, and see if she could be reasoned with. I quickly changed into shorts and a T-shirt and greeted my parents downstairs.

“Hello, Ethan. Did you put on your cream yet?” My mother asked.

“No, but I will now,” I replied as I dashed to the bathroom. I scoured the medicine cabinet for my ‘DermaScar’ cream. I applied the soothing, menthol cream to the scars on my face. I tried my best to forget about how they got there, but every time I focused on the stigmas, the terror of the tragic accident replayed in my mind.

I pictured the flames blazing in front of me — the things around me turning to ashes. The smoke engulfed me as I dropped low to the ground and tried to crawl to the exit. The kitchen was sweltering; I felt like I was inside of an oven. Shots of pain ran through my veins. The worst sting was coming from my face, and I knew instantly that my face had been burned severely. I reached the outside of my house, where I immediately received medical attention from the ambulence that arrived at my house.

Thankfully, everyone survived. My baby sister, Vivica, almost didn’t make it, but she lived and is perfectly fine now. My parents were out of the house at the time. I got out safely, but was injured most seriously.

I returned back to the moment, glad to be away from that nightmare. I returned to the kitchen to find my mother preparing pancakes for me. I decided to look through the phone book for her name to see if it was listed. Luckily, it was listed with a home and cell phone number. I decided to give her a ring after I ate my pancakes.