3TS: The Chances of Starting Again

Frustration

Feb. 18 Relax. Relax. Relax.

Since the first years had a field trip, their hall was student-free.

"No, Trent...you don't understand!" I shouted, frustrated.

"I understand that you had to be taken away from him before you did anything worse than a hard push." He responded as he set me down. I found that we were in a small balcony, overlooking the school grounds.

The place was quiet, but my thoughts were in a jumble now. Anger was still boiling inside of me, and the only way I knew how to take it out was to get back to Juan.

I started to walk away from Trent, but he moved in front of me.

"You need to relax, Krissa. Look at me. Breathe."

I tried to push him away, but he was too strong to be moved from his spot. But I still tried. "Trent, you don't understand! I need to-"

"Need to what?" He interrupted. "Get revenge? That's not like you, Krissa."

Tears started to fall down my face, "And you know the real me?!" I shouted, with my anger steaming through my words. He was silent, staring through me as if he was searching for my soul.

I sighed, feeling guilty, "Just get out of the way." My voice started to falter, "Please, you don't understand." My last words seemed to drift off weakly, and my body went weak.

He softly held my shoulders and helped me lean against the railing. "Then help me understand."

My knees wobbled, my heart ached. But it wasn't because of Trent. Not really. I breathed in the morning air deeply until I noticed Trent was holding something. I realized just then that my backpack was still hanging on one of my shoulders, and Trent was holding the keychain he gave to me.

He stared at it, "When your guitar cracked, and you went outside, I was worried you were too embarrassed, and you left. And when I saw you outside, you had said sorry. To your guitar...and to your dad. Why is that?"

He was trying to help me. He was trying to understand.

Without a moment's notice, he took up my hands in his. I only noticed then that my hands were shaking. He was trying to calm me.

**

I breathed deeply again and looked down at the school field. Few students were there, trying to rush into the building to get to their classes. It made me think of myself back then. 

"My father was nice. He was like the life of the party at our house. My mom and older sister would laugh along with him, but I wouldn't. I was sort of rebellious and jealous of my sister back then..." I trailed off. This conversation was getting too personal. Maybe he wouldn't like what I had to say next.

But he asked, "Why?"

I couldn't handle the stress anymore, journal. I had to tell somebody about my past. Somebody except you. Because everyone knows that I always write whatever is happening to me in this journal.

So I continued, "After her first year of high school, she was valedictorian, a class president, and a writer in the school newspaper. When I went into my first year of high school, I was in section three and I was just a dancer. Back then, I always thought I wasn't good enough, that my parents didn't love me. So it was like I threw away my life when I got into fights in my old school. My mom and dad tried to help me, my dad even gave me a nice guitar so I could start a new musical instrument, but I just pushed them away and never tried to learn on that guitar."

"What made you...start strumming that guitar?" He asked softly. His voice was kind, and he proceeded asking questions with caution. He leaned against the railing, next to me, urging me to go on with his soft look.

I kept on staring into the distance, remembering memories as if it were yesterday, "The accident." I suddenly clutched the school railing. Hard. Feelings of reminiscence came back to me. Anger. Guilt. But mostly, sadness. Deep sadness that always was in the back of my mind.

I gulped, "I was in another school fight, but it wasn't going too well. A teacher called up my father, and even in his sickly health at that time, he came to try to stop me. Then, when he came, the fight got worse and..." I choked up, how I could be talking about these things, I didn't know. A tear fell down my cheek, and I wiped it away.

The pain, the memory itself in my head was enough to make me cry. My lips trembled. And I could see Trent looking at me. In that moment, I felt embarrassed. Embarrassed that someone else knew what had happened to me. Even more embarrassed that my crush was hearing all of this. Because when a guy knows the "other side" of you, it kind of makes your ego move to point zero.

I choked back tears, looking down as I adjusted my backpack on my shoulder and started to walk away.

And then, I hesitated when Trent spoke, "It's okay," As if he just read my mind, "you can tell me. Sometimes," At this, he exhaled slowly. "people need to take out the pain." As if he had experienced pain himself. As if he knew me.

"Someone had...punched my dad-him. Hard. The police had to come and bring people away, but I was free to go because my father had to go to...the hospital...and-and..."

I rubbed my hands to try to contain myself, "He..."

My shoulders shook. I couldn't bring myself to say that he had died. 

My father had loved me enough to care for me. He dropped into my school fight even if he was sick. He showed me that he was willing to do anything to save me.

And, in truth, he really did save me from going down my dark path.

All because of his love. For me.

My hand eventually relaxed, and my anger subsided.

In a few minutes, I was able to get my voice back, "That's what...changed me. After that, I vowed to be the best I could...that I would try my best not to hurt anyone's life anymore. I tried to make my mother happy every day. And, she eventually did become happy. She always tried to comfort me that it wasn't my fault that he...passed away. But, deep inside, I knew...that it was my fault."

I blinked away tears, "And now, Juan's affected because of me."

Juan was hurt because of my clumsiness, and I was hurt because of his hurtful words. When would this cycle end?

Trent was saying something to me. But my mind was focused on a tricycle as it passed down the school road, bringing another late student to school. And then, it hit me. The crazy thing that would not just break this horrible cycle, but make it look like it never happened.

"It might work." I said aloud.

Trent looked confused, maybe because of my sudden change of mood or because I had just interrupted him. "What might work?"

But I started down the hall. Trent caught up to me, "Stop, don't go to Juan again. You might get-"

And then, I actually smiled up at him, "I'm not. And I won't." And then, Trent looked really surprised at my happy attitude.

He would never know why.