Waking Up

Try to Move On

Chapter Seventeen

I anticipated the last week of school. No dread, just happiness. The school was literally a living hell. My life had been miserable ever since the drive to Texas.

In English class, the teacher began to let us relax. "I'm going to let y'all write a paper about anything. You're pets, a trip, an experience, your family," she said. "And your friends."

"Something Reagan doesn't have," someone joked. The teacher glared at him. My English teacher was the only one who seemed to even care.

"No, that you don't have, Billy," the teacher snapped. The whole class laughed. I had to move on from Johnny and Ponyboy. They were all the way back in Oklahoma. Just one last time, I told myself, making the hallucinations appear.

'You gonna write about us?' Pony asked. I nodded.

'Well good!' Johnny said. 'Don't you ever forget about us. We never forgot about you.' I felt tears well up in my eyes, so I tried to hold them back. For the last time, they disappeared. On my piece of paper, I began to write.

'Friendship is a rare gift from God and when he gives you that gift, accept it. It won't be around forever. Johnny and Ponyboy were my first two friends back in Tulsa. All three of us got along good. Never did we argue, we just joked around. They were always there for me to talk to. I was blessed to have them. I had a few other friends too, but Johnny and Ponyboy were the closest to me. That's why I never made friends here, I felt as though I couldn't replace them. All those days I'd sit alone, I'd pretend I was still with them or at least hoping I could move back. Such a dream never came true. I got picked on for wanting to be alone. Although on the outside I seemed alone, on the inside, my two best friends were still in my heart.' I placed my pencil down and raised my hand.

"Are you done, Reagan?" I nodded. "Then come on up and read for us."

Timidly, I made my way to the front of the classroom and read my paper. No one interrupted, laughed, or scoffed at my paper. When I finished reading, I grabbed my bag and left, feeling embarrassed.

As I arrived home, I was greeted with boxes. "Matt? What's going on?"