My Best Friend, Forever

Chapter 6

The next morning, I sat in my first period class and stared out the window as my English teacher rambled on about one of the stories we were reading. I couldn't pay attention when all that was on my mind was Ivy. She was at home, on the couch, watching the house for me. I didn't want to go to school, in fact, I hated going to school since everything happened. School was the place I felt most alone, but it made me feel at least a little bit productive with my life.

"Hello class, as you know, today is the day we start our writing assignment. This marking period's assignment is going to be one to express our individual feelings of remorse, guilt, or any type of way you feel that digs a little bit deeper for us. I want you guys to really reach inside your hearts and write something passionate and powerful." Mrs. Reina announced to the class as she sat down in her desk.

"I feel that writing is a powerful way to find your emotions and figure them out. As you write, you emit more of your feelings into your work. And you can certainly get better at writing stories or anything you put your mind to, once you reach inside and explain their emotions." She stated.

Emotions, I felt so many of emotions my whole life. Sometimes I avoided them, sometimes I didn't wanna feel them. Other times I did reach inside and pull out powerful feelings.

Sat beside me, before everything happened, was Ivy. She twisted her black locks of hair with her finger every time the literature teacher rambled on. Writing is a powerful thing that was brought to us in this world, and Mrs. Reina always expressed that.

However, Ivy always told me that I was the better writer. Even though she was the one who seemed to be better at everything than me. She always one-up'd me at every single thing, but I know she never meant that. She is not a selfish person, she is never rubbing anything in my face to prove that she's better than me. She is just gifted, and I wish I was gifted, too. But despite all of her amazing talents, she preached that I was always a better writer than her, and the way I spoke and expressed myself came so natural and almost perfect, and that is the one thing I can fully claim.

I always write things. Whether it's short stories, or poetry, whatever it was, I enjoyed writing. I loved escaping the current reality I am in and to take the place of someone else. Pursue a different voice. It was mostly poetry I wrote.

After Ivy had passed, I sat in the back of most classes, alone. I had my notebook which was supposed to be for math, and I would write poems. I never showed people these poems, I felt like their minds were never as open as mine, and they could never fully understand what I'm writing. So I kept it all to myself. This secret place I often went to escaped my reality, and I could write my own world.