Creative Writing Collection

Jessie Sketch

We were a family of skateboarders. Except for my mom. She thought it was too hard, and she didn’t like it. My two brothers, one older and one younger, learned how to skateboard before I had. Matt was eight when he could already do flips; I was 13 at the time, and was still learning how to stabilize myself. Shoty, my older brother, whose real name was Shane, was on a board when he was five — he would’ve been 19 a few months. According to my dad, he went to school with Danny Way when he was younger, and actually got to meet Bob Burnquist by accidentally spilling a milkshake on him.

       Now they’re all gone. The house is quiet, and I’m left alone. It was a freak accident, and no one really knew what happened. All I knew was that I couldn’t see my family in their caskets because they had been burned too badly. I visit them four times a year, sometimes five. I used to wear the necklace mom made me all the time, but I don’t anymore. I’ve been alone for about four years — well, not entirely alone.

       I’ve had Jade. And Dylan. On a sense they were the only people, the only sense if family I had left. Jade’s moved in for a few months now, which helped the house feel less empty. It was the next big step in our relationship. Well, the only big step in our relationship since I mustered the courage to ask her out. She’s my best friend.

       Best female friend. Best male friend? Cue Dylan.