He walks into the class and sits at his desk. He takes out his blue pencil bag and his note book, for notes of course. He smiles and laughs at his friends and crack jokes with them. His smile lit up a room and no matter your mood it cheered you up. He was flawless. He doesn't notice one person in the corner staring at him but that didn't bother her. She liked that more anyway. He wasn't the best when it came to academics but he was doing okay. His personality made up for it. As long as he got As and Bs it didn't matter. When class started he'd be so in tune to the teacher. Asking questions, being curious. Someone who wasn't paying attention to him would think of him like this. Yet the moment no one was looking at him that perfect smile had faded. She couldn't tell if he was focused or something different. He drowned himself in work. After school he was part of all the clubs. He did anything he possibly can to be busy, to keep his mind off of it of course. He didn't want to think of it. But the problem is he couldn't control it. It was like a giant cover being thrown over him. What was 'it'? Figure it out. He'd stand there, smiling, laughing, helping. The only reason he helped was because he didn't want anyone to feel like he did. He thought if he helped he could keep people from that cover. He always helped. Anyone, anything, he was there. He helped too damn much. She watched him. She couldn't take her eyes off of him and when he did notice her she'd simply smile. Not saying a word. Not because she was shy but because every time she looked at him something crawled on her skin. She saw it. In his eyes she saw it. She saw he wasn't perfect. She saw he didn't want to laugh. She saw someone begging for help. Although, She thought it was an illusion so she kept her mouth shut. That day he walked home with his friends. The usual route, pass the park, up the hill, making a right at the cherry blossom trees and he was home. See his father was never there. The father was too busy over his douche girlfriend house. The girl only wanted his father for money, his father knew this yet was still completely and utterly infatuated with her. He was home alone. After a long day of smiling, and laughing, and pretending he put his back to his brown house door. He smiled. He smiled so hard. He thought if he smiled enough the cover would just, go away, It didn't. So he laughed he laughed hysterically. He laughed so hard and loud that his jaw started to hurt. He was laughing and pretending and smiling. He started to get frustrated that it wasn't working and stopped. He screamed. He screamed 5 times, gaining his breath in between all of them. After the 5th scream he couldn't take it. The tears rolled down his face. See he wasn't crying because of school, or a grade, or because of his father, or his locked up mother. He cried because for most of his 16 years of life he's wanted to end it. He constantly felt like he was disappointing people. He felt like he was disappointing himself. The tears rolled down his cheeks and he was tired of it. He was tired of being the weak one. The one who was in pain. See he told his story, he told all of his closest family members that he hated everything about himself, that he felt stupid, that he felt like he wasn't enough. But, as you know, these feelings are laughed at in the black community. He walked up his creamy white steps to his fathers bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and took a moment to breathe. He closed his eyes and opened them. Before he could realize it, all the pills were in his system. He overdosed on every single pill he could find. He sat on his bed smiling. As his breathing slowed his heart beat became louder. He sat there smiling till all he heard was Ludum......Ludum....Lu-.
Sad thing is since it was a Friday his father was gone. His body, lying on the bed, dead, wasn't found till the Monday morning.
