Water-Fountain In July

Hi, my name is Marcus. I am 15 years old and I attend River-edge High School. I do not know why it is named that considering that there is no river around. Well, that is if you don’t count the sewer. The sewer runs into a creek and when it goes from the sewer to the creek there are a few steps the water goes down so it appears to be a waterfall. It is quite gorgeous to be completely honest. Now I do not just spend my time staring at sewage, I go to counseling, I play guitar, and I love to draw. My counselor advised me to start a journal after I expressed to her my inability to tell people my thoughts. I think it is stupid to share my every thought but according to her if I don’t let my thoughts out they are going to build up inside me and lead me to a physiological break or some shit like that. I told her I would not tell people what I think. My thoughts are mine and mine alone. When I said that I could tell she was getting frustrated. She got like that a lot. She is actually kind of helpful sometimes. “What about a journal?” she asks. A journal? Like a diary? “So you want me to start a diary?” I had asked her. I don’t know about that. If anyone from school finds it I will become a laughing stock and I already have enough problems with being bullied as it is. Kids are fucking brutal. “Not exactly. A journal, something to write your thoughts and opinions in so they don’t build inside of you but still allow you to keep everything to yourself,” she says in reply to my question. “A compromise. Will you do that for me?” I think about it for a second. As long as no one finds it I am sure it will be okay I guess. Plus maybe it will get my aunt off my back. She is constantly worried about my mental health. She knows that I deal with a lot of problems with other students at school. “Fine,” I say. Then she hands me this notebook with a picture of a water fountain on it. It was a spiral hardcover, not bad. She waves me away to dismiss me back to class. I am supposed to be in science right now. I like school. Aside from the bullies that is.

When I get to class I open the door and everyone is staring at me, it was not a new thing for me to be pulled out of class. I bet they were all thinking wow, the weird kid must be crazy or something stupid like that. But that is how I liked it. Aside from Jaiden and his group, people were too afraid to talk to me. I am pretty sure they think I have cooties or something. I have good grades and I try my best to stay out of trouble but it is not easy. I live with my aunt, Amanda, and her wife, Jamie. “Welcome back Marcus, please take your seat and begin your test. You have 45 minutes but I doubt that will be a problem for you.” My jackass of a teacher tells me. A couple of months ago I beat him in a bet that I could take a 25-question test in 10 minutes and still manage to get an A. I did it in 8 and I got a 99. (the only reason I lost a point is because I didn’t show my work. Or that is what he said) It is no mystery that he doesn’t like me. Even though I know the answers to questions and I am good at history I never raise my hand to answer questions. I just doodle on my desk and when he calls on me even though I am not raising my hand I answer. When this happens I can see his face subtly get red and the hair on his neck stand up. I believe his primary goal is to see me fail.I have never been with someone romantically before. No relationships, No crushes, and No one crushing on me. Contrary to most people’s beliefs I am not some quiet innocent virgin. I have never dated anyone that does not mean I have never slept with anyone. Right after my mom went to prison I needed to blow off some steam. I was constantly stressed and I noticed my grades dropping. If I had any hopes of going to college I would need to handle my stress. I don’t know what my sexuality is. I get attracted to girls but I could not imagine having a relationship with them. At least not a permanent one. During that particular phase of my life, I was most active with guys. It was easier like that. They understood the assignment. Get in, do your business, and get out. Girls would want me to call. I like to keep things casual. It is the way I roll. I mind my own business other people should mind theirs. I have one friend. And one friend only. His name is Nick and we grew up together basically. Our moms were friends before my mom went to prison. After that happened I guess his mom was freaked out and told him to stop talking to me or something cause he started completely avoiding me. I tried to say hello to him in the halls however he made it difficult. Eventually, I just gave up trying. My aunt keeps insisting I try and make new friends but I would rather not. She says I am lonely. What she doesn’t understand is that I am perfectly fine. I have everyone I need, me, myself, and I. If I get close to someone they have the power to hurt me like nothing else. That is what Mom tells me. “When you trust someone and they trust you they have the power to hurt you like nothing else. A betrayal from a friend is much worse than a betrayal from an enemy. An enemy would stab you in the chest but a fake friend will stab you in the back. And that my son is a fate worse than eternal damnation” My mom doesn’t trust anyone. Well aside from Marium, Nick’s mom. They were best friends, inseparable. Until Marium cold-bloodedly turned her in to the police. Mom hates the police. My dad disappeared sometime after I was born and it drove my mother to insanity. He was a police officer. You could see it in her eyes that she was genuinely not okay. I did everything in my power to try and help her but there was only so much a 13-year-old could do. I have a sister too, my dad took her with him and neither of them were found since, and trust me it was not from a lack of trying. She was 5 when her dad came back for her. I was 8 at the time. You can imagine the kind of pain losing my little sister caused me. She was my best friend. I vividly remember the night he took her from us. It was around midnight, we were in our shared bedroom when we heard banging on the door. Emily was terrified so I stayed in our bedroom to hold and comfort her. Mom eventually answered the door but we did not hear any conversation. Just the slam of our front door and stomping up our creaky wooden stairs. He shoved the door of our room open and pulled her out of my arms. I remember the look of anger in his eyes and the look of fear in Emily’s. I jumped off the floor and tried to take her but I was met with a locked door from the outside. The door remained locked all night and mostly through the next day. That was until my mother woke up and came to my room and let me outside. I had cried myself to sleep that night and many nights after that. For the next few weeks even, I tried to search for her. I would sneak out of school during lunch to go looking for her but I never found anything. At some point after about a year, mom couldn’t afford our house anymore and we had to move. I begged her not to move us, if my sister was really trying to find us and we were not there she would be forced to go back to our bastard father. I could not do that to my sister. She was an amazing sister and if I had done something, anything, maybe just maybe I could have saved her. Maybe I could have convinced my father to let her stay. That was just not what happened. I was weak and Emily had to suffer for it. She will be turning ten next week.

After school, I go to my room. It wasn’t a huge house but the three of us made it work. I am not that close to my aunt and Jamie but I am respectful. I have to be, they took me in when Mom went to prison. She didn’t have to but I am glad she did. If she didn’t I would have been sent to my dad. She knows what kind of bastard my dad is and she saved me from him. If it weren’t for her I would most likely be dead right now. “Dinner Marcus! We are having baked chicken and mashed potatoes” Jamie yelled from the kitchen. She was the cook in the family. Quite literally she is a professional chef. All the meals we ate aside from the cereal she made. They were always gourmet too. On the other hand, my aunt is a therapist. She is good at things like that. She always seems to know when something is wrong no matter how much I try to hide it. I head downstairs for dinner and the wonderful smell of chicken and homemade mashed potatoes hits my nose. It is really pleasant actually. I sit at the table and put some food on my plate. Soon after I take my seat Jamie and my Aunt sit down in their chairs. “How was school today, Marcus?” Jamie asks me kindly with a polite smile on her face. I muster up a small smile and reply “It was good Jamie. The counselor suggested I start a journal or something.” I look over at my Aunt and see a satisfied smile on her face. “That is good, hun. Are you going to?” Jamie replies. I pull my journal out of my bag and show her. “Wow, this one is nice, did she give it to you?” I nod silently, keeping my gaze on my aunt’s expression. It remains the same until she speaks. “It will be good for you, give you something to do when you hide away in your room all day.” there it is. She is not the easiest person to get along with. I nod and look to the side. After dinner, I wash my dishes and go to my bedroom. I turn on the music and plug in my headphones. Around 10 am Jamie comes to my room and knocks on my open door. “Hey, hun. Ummm I wanted to talk to you about something.” I hold out my arm and signal her to come into my room. She comes inside and sits on a corner of my bed. “So, a new neighbor moved in today and they have a son. He is about your age and will be attending your school. I was hoping you could give him a ride to school and maybe show him around. I think it would be beneficial to you to make a friend” My breath hitches in my throat. A friend? Not. ’“I will give him a ride and show him around but I will not be his friend. I don’t need any friends. I have myself and my lizard and that is enough for me.” after I say that she looks visibly disappointed. “Fine whatever you say just at least be nice” She gets up brushes nothing off of her lap and heads to the door. She stops halfway through the door with her hand on the door frame and looks around the room, then leaves. Once she leaves I pull out my phone and open the wattpad to read my favorite book.

I went to bed around midnight that night. The night I lost Emily played on repeat in my head all night long and I woke up the next morning with heaving breath and a cold sweat on my head and back. Not again.