Answered Prayers

To me, high school isn’t as brilliant as movies and books make it seem. I never really got into the dances, sporting events, and assemblies. But as graduation gets closer and closer, I actually am sad that I really never was involved. High school has been one crazy, amazing, chaotic journey. I have lost and gained many friends, but one person that truly has impacted my four years of high school is my mother’s boyfriend.

My father left when I was two years old. I never really got the chance to know him personally but from what my mother tells me I am a lot like him. Sometimes I wish he would just be there for my siblings and me. Or, maybe even come around once in awhile. But all my life, I wandered how it was to grow up with a father. When I was younger I prayed everyday my father would come see me, but eventually I gave up.

A couple of years later, God answered my prayers. He did it unexpectedly.  He didn’t bring me my father, but he blessed my family and I with an incredible man. My mother never dated anyone after my father left. She thought my siblings and I were enough, and she claimed she was happy, but I knew deep down inside she wanted love. She devoted all her time to us, so it was nearly impossible for her to find someone, but she did.

I remember when I first met him. It was at a basketball game my freshman year. It took me awhile to get used to him being around. It definitely was weird at first. I was used to my brother being the man of the house. But, overall, it was an easy transition because it was easy getting use to my mother being happy. My mother definitely deserves to be happy.

He has helped me a lot through high school. He would pick me up late at night when I came back from football games, buy food for me, and give me advice about college and boys. My siblings and I enjoy him being around. He puts up with four girls in one house, and I definitely can respect him for that. I know it's not easy, and he doesn’t really have to be here, but he chooses to. He has always been there for me. He knows how to talk to me about certain subjects a father should talk to their daughter about. He respects my mother and gives her everything, and I could not ask for any better fatherly figure. I cannot imagine high school without him.

I have never called anyone ‘dad,’ and honestly I do not think I could ever call anyone that, but when I’m at the store with him and my mom, and they refer to them as my parents and him as my dad, I smile and my heart brightens because I now know I have someone to look up to like a father. He definitely has been a huge impact throughout my high schools, and I cannot thank God enough for putting him in my life.

My Letter to You

Dear Peyton (Bleeker),

            You are the world’s greatest little sister and my best friend. I tell you everything and you never judge me. I never consider you a little sister because you help me more than I help you. You really should be the older one. We have been by each other’s side since you were born. You have made my senior year great. It’s just not fair you are a freshman. I want to take you to college with me. I don’t want to leave you. You make me the happiest person ever. You can sense when something is wrong with me. We finish each other’s sentences and have the same thoughts. We are twin souls and almost identical twins. You just need to grow a couple of inches. It makes me sad that I have to leave you in about five months. What am I going to do without you? I am going to have to find someone else to do stupid stuff with like ride our bikes five miles just to get a burrito, stay up until 6 a.m. doing nothing, and sneak out to go bowling.

            It’s the memories that will keep us close. I’ll always remember our late night conversations, late night drives, dance parties with just us two, our weird road trip games, and seriously just everything. I’ll even miss you getting mad at me. You are the reason why I am here today. I’m glad you told mom on me when I was making stupid decisions when you were younger. You never gave up on me. You always knew how to calm me down and make me laugh. You never turn your back on me.

            It’s crazy how much you have grown up. I remember you being so little and innocent. You were the cutest girl ever. You had short hair and wore nerdy clothes all the time. You used to tie your hair straight back with your brown, ugly, free glasses. But now you wear mascara and have pretty long hair. You are so pretty. It seemed like just yesterday you were a little girl. You turn fifteen already tomorrow! You make me seem so old.

            Promise me, you will never change. Promise me, we will always be very close even when I go off to college. I know you don’t really like Holbrook and the dorm, but, trust me, you will get used to it. Holbrook isn’t all that bad but the dorm . . . well you will never get used to it. ;) There are good people here, and it’s the kind of change you need. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always be your big sister. You’ll always be the greatest human alive on this planet to me. You know all my secrets, and I trust you with my life. I love you, baby sister. Let’s make these last few months the absolute greatest!

Love,

Wizard

Alcohol

           I hate alcohol. Do you really want to know why I hate alcohol? I hate it because it ruins everything. For the past two years, alcohol has damaged my family more than anything. I never really voiced my opinion to my family until this past weekend. Every Friday I am excited to go home and see my family, but this past weekend was different. When I got home I knew something was different. I walked into a dark, cold house, and my older sister was sitting on the couch in the dark. I thought it was strange, but I still went to my room and dropped off my bags. After I walked back into the living room and said hi to my sister. She looked at me and said, “Leave me alone. Go to bed.” Her make-up was smeared, and her voice was different but it sounded very similar. Like the time I got a phone call at 4 a.m. asking me if I could pick her up because she was too drunk to drive. I knew she was drunk but my mom didn’t notice. Until my sister snapped and told my mom she “wasn’t worth s**t” and threw the TV remote at her. When it comes to my mother and younger sister, I am very protective of them. My body began to tremble. I really didn’t want to say anything to my sister, but I hate seeing my mother being treated like that. From there on things got way out of hand, so my younger sister, mom, and I left to get a motel room. By that time, my shoulder was bleeding, my head was bruised, and my heart ached. But I never once hit my sister because I made a promise to myself and God that I would never do that.

 I didn’t know what else to do or say but cry. My younger sister looked at me and said, “I’m scared.” I knew I needed to be strong for my mother and my sister but I just couldn’t be strong anymore. I broke down. I tried getting some sleep, and I slept for about two hours. I woke up to my mother crying and praying. I eventually fell back asleep. It was about 9 a.m., and the sun was shining. My mother told me to sit down by her, and she said, “I know you don’t know this but never argue with a drunk person. I learned that the hard way from your dad.” Moments later, I got a text message from my sister saying, “I’m sorry.” I forgive her, but I am still trying to forget. I will love her until the day I die. She will always be my sister. But right now I am numb and weak. I can’t feel anything. I’m not ready to talk about anything that happened and how I feel but eventually I know I have to forget and move on. And after everything that happened this weekend this is the reason why I hate alcohol. Alcohol ruins everything. I hate everything about alcohol. I hate being around alcohol. I just hate it.

My Third Birthday

      I was just about to turn three when my father left. He tried to take me with him, but my mother wouldn’t let him. He took our truck, our only source of transportation. I remember catching rides with my mother’s friends to and from school. This picture brings back so many memories. I remember my father and mother getting into an argument. Their arguments were mainly triggered by the same things every time. This argument I knew was the worst because I saw my father hit my mother. As she slammed against our front door, I squeezed my eyes shut very tightly. I stood in the hallway, and my older sister grabbed my hand and told me to hide while she called the cops. I was hiding with my younger sister in my mother’s closet. I remember hearing my brother yell at my father to stop. I was scared. The cops came, and I walked out of the closet and saw a man in a red plaid shirt in handcuffs. I say, “a man” because that wasn’t my father. I didn’t know who that was.

     After my father left, I remember him trying to come back and plead my mother for forgiveness. She never gave in. No matter the struggle financially and emotionally she was facing, she never let my father come back. I never realized how much we financially struggled until my mother explained to me about a year ago. After my father left, my mother tried to get our lives back to normal as possible. She gave me the best third birthday ever. We never bought anything new. My gifts were wrapped in newspaper. The clothes I got for gifts were hand-me-downs from my cousins. The cake we ate was never bought; we made it out of cake mix from the dollar store. But none of that really mattered to me because I was happy I was with my mother.  She literally fought for our lives. She gave us everything she could.
 
     In this picture, you cannot tell our struggle, you can only tell my happiness. Until this day my mother always says, “I really don’t know how we made it through those times.” I am thankful for my mother every day, she has taught me to know that I capable of anything. I believe my mother is living proof that anybody can conquer their fears and be their own individual and still be the most loving, caring mother ever.

The Girl with the Red Hair

My first day at Holbrook High School was kind of scary and lonely. My older brother was a senior, and obviously he didn’t want to be seen with a little freshman, so I think he avoided me.  When I was walking to first hour, I remember seeing Gabriel in plaid shorts, it looked like he was about to go golf, but he looked scary. Maybe it was because it was my first time going to school with non-Natives. I remember my first time walking into Pre-AP English.  I was so scared. I remembering seeing a girl with red hair walk in. She seemed kind of scary and to make things worse she was like half a foot taller than me. I never talked in that class until a few short weeks passed by I was talking to the girl with the red hair. She was actually very nice and smart. Sophomore year, we took AP-World History together, so we became closer. As each year passes by, Samantha and I become closer. This year we have grown so much closer. I spill my life to her, and she understands. She never judges me, and she listens. She has helped me through my darkest times, and she has been through my happiest times with me. Samantha and I have a strange bond. We understand each other. I think it’s because we come from very similar families. We grew up the same way, and we were taught the same things. She definitely comes from a strong family, and they have taught her well. She respects others and most importantly, she respects herself. She is extremely smart, pretty, and talented. It seems like she doesn’t even try, but I know she tries very hard. Some friendships come and go, and over the past four years I have lost more friends than gained, but I am very thankful Samantha and I are still friends. She has come a very long way with school, herself, and basketball. Every year she gets better. She is going to be playing in the final four for basketball, and I just want her to know I am so very proud of her. She has so much heart and potential. She is a hard worker. But just remember, Sam,  you are going to be playing in front of thousands of crazy Natives, so just promise me you won’t fall! Haha. I know she’ll play good because she always does. Overall, I am very glad I came to school here, and I am very glad the girl with the red hair talked to me. She is my best friend and my biggest motivator. Thanks, Samthurrrr.

January 13, 2013

      On January 13, 2013, I received a phone call at 3 a.m. from my dearest friend, Stenson. He asked me for a ride back to his house because he was very drunk. I tell all of my friends to call me if they are drunk, and they need a ride, no matter what time it is and where I am at, so he did.  When I was getting ready to pick him up, he was called again. I answered. He said, “Hey. I found a ride.” I told him to call me when he got home, so I was trying very hard to stay awake. It was about 4 a.m., still nothing. I eventually fell asleep. I woke up around 7 a.m. again and checked my phone. I had seven missed calls and eighteen text messages. They were all from my friend, Christian. Christian was with Stenson that night. I called Christian back. He asked if I had heard from Stenson. I replied, “No.” He hung up. I grew more and more worried about Stenson. I called almost everyone in my contacts and asked for Stenson. No one knew where he was. About thirty minute later, I get a call from an unknown number. I answer. They say, “Courtney?” I reply, “Yes.” There was a long pause. They finally said, “Stenson got into a car accident. He didn’t make it.” I started crying. I ran to my mom’s room and hugged her. I couldn’t stop crying. I just wanted to go back in time and take him home safely. A few minutes late, Christian was calling again. I pulled myself together and answered. He says, “Have you heard anything yet?” I never answered his questions, but I did say, “Who are you with, Christian?” I didn’t want him to be alone when I told him. He said, “With my mom.” I say, “Christian. Stenson didn’t make it home. He got into a car accident.” Christian and Stenson were best friends. I heard him yell, and say, “No! Please. No!” I start crying again. He hung up. I didn’t know what to do. I should have given him a ride home. I should have woken up faster and drove as fast I could to Stenson. I thought of so many possibilities and things I could’ve done to save him. But blaming myself never helped. I miss Stenson every day. I surely do miss our late night McDonald runs and playing guitar for hours. I miss talking to him and seeing him. He was the greatest friend anyone could ask for.

            A couple days of nonstop crying, I finally got the urge to sleep. That night I dreamt I was with Stenson. We were playing pool, and he said to me, “Courtney. Promise me something. Don’t ever give up on anything. Stay in school for as long as you can.” I kept questioning him on why he was saying this. He never answered. I will never forget that dream. I believe it was his way of saying goodbye. I think about him every single day, but I know he is somewhere watching over me. So, please, if you ever are drinking, please do not drive. Call someone even your mother. She will get over it easier than losing her own child.

The Little Things.

            High school for me isn’t the best experience nor is it the worst, but one thing that really changed that all around for me was being the football manager. Those boys have so much heart and determination. I am very glad I let my barrier down and got the guts to be the manager. Every practice and game, I learned a little more about the boys. They became my brothers. They never disrespected my sister and I. They said please and thank you. I do not think any of the boys know nor have the slightest idea that they have taught me so much. They have taught me to be myself, and generally just enjoy the little things in life.

One game I will never forget was the Winslow game. I swear that moment changed my life. They were down, and some of them were mad. I understand why. They worked so hard at practice. They never gave up. One of the boys was standing there and just staring at the field, and I asked if he wanted water. He never responded, so just when I was about to walk away, he said, “I’m freakin’ tired of losing.” Of course, he didn’t say “freakin,” and he said other things to me, but I understood. Tears rolled down his face, and I didn’t want to cry, so I walked away. I didn’t know what to say. There were so many emotions flying around, and I was in the middle of it. I tried to stay out of everyone’s way and be the best help I could be. After the game, the boy apologized. I still didn’t know what to say. I told my mom everything that happened. She told me, “Those boys have the biggest hearts ever. They were losing, and they never gave up.”That was exactly true.

The Monday we came back to school, I heard some person say, “The boys lost. Of course, they never win. They suck.” That comment just really made me mad. They didn’t know how hard they worked at practice. They didn’t really know anything about those boys. I didn’t say anything, but later a boy said to me, “The football team got beat so bad by Winslow.” Of course, I had to say something I cared about those boys so much, so I said, “You don’t know how hard they work, so as long as you aren’t trying out there, don’t say anything.” He is a friend of mine, and he didn’t say anything back. Later that evening I went to practice and the boys were back to themselves, hilarious and weird.

 I’ll always remember the most humble player saying to the team, “Don’t give up, guys.” Then he tapped his brother on the shoulder. I’ll always remember freezing, and trying to keep warm. I’ll always remember tripping over the water bottles when Daniel intercepted ball, and there were so many people at the game. I’ll always remember these were the greatest moments in high school. I’ll always remember senior night crying, and one of the boys said to me, “Thanks for everything.”

They have taught me to be me again. I will never regret being the football manager. So take chances, and go out of your comfort zone and do something you’ve always wanted to do.

Ryan.

We used to stay up all night watching Star Wars and doing crosswords. We used to talk about the dogs we would own. We used to ask each other weird questions and buy junk from the dollar store. We did so much together. Until one day, he asked me to meet him at the park. As I get there I am so excited to see him, and he tells me to sit. He was talking, but I could really hear was, “We can’t be together anymore.” He told me not to ask questions, and he left. I watched him leave as tears flooded my eyes and my hands were shaking. I just wanted it to be all a nightmare. Why? He left me devastated, confused, and lost.

Two years strolled by, I was checking my Facebook. I see a friend request from him. All I could say to myself was, “Why now?” I approve the friend request. Seconds later, he messages me, “How are you?” It took me three days to respond, “Good.” He left me like it was nothing. No explanation, no call, no text message. I went to his profile, and I see a picture of him in a military uniform. He enlisted into the Army, and he was deployed to Korea. He told me he was sorry but still he never gave me an explanation. But then again I never did ask for one. I never wanted to hurt like the day he left me. I didn’t want to get close to him again. About three months later, he told me he was returning to America.

He was back at home. To be honest, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t know what to say. He text me, “Let’s go to dinner.” My mom told me to go, so I did. It was awkward. Until he said, “Courtney. I want to say I’m sorry again. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for never telling you why. Once again, I’m sorry, but I cheated on you.” We were together for two years, and I don’t see how he could’ve kept me from not knowing for so long. I was mad, but most importantly, I was relieved. But I got up and said, “Thanks for dinner,” and left. What was I supposed to do? Get mad for something that happened two years ago? It was probably the worst thing to do, but two hours later he text me, “I get why you left. I’m sorry. I care about you. I need to talk to you.” I never responded, but he text me everyday and never gave up. I finally said, “Okay. I forgive you.” We started talking again, and he told me he was getting deployed to Afghanistan. He told me he was scared. Of course, my heart was racing, and I didn't know what to do. I felt helpless and weak.

            He was deployed to Afghanistan in 2011. He was in combat for almost a year, so we sent letters to each other. Finally when the war was settling down, he had access to the internet, so he emailed me. He told me he lost two of his best friends in combat and that made him think about his life. He told me God must have helped me for a reason. He told me he stayed up four days straight thinking and he told me maybe God knew I had a purpose and he said, “Courtney, you are my purpose.” I couldn't put myself through that again. I wasn't even fully healed from two years ago. I couldn't do it. He promised me so much. He told me he would wait for me. But I replied, “I’m young. My mom would be so mad. I just want to go to school with no worries.” He understood and said, “Well, in that case, I’m re-enlisting.” That was the last time we talked.

            It has been about three months since then. I think about him from time to time, but lately it has been more than usual. He messaged me this past weekend and said, “I’m on my way back to America. I hope I see you.” I never replied. An hour ago, he text me, “I’m in Cincinnati.” I want  to see him so bad, but I’m afraid. Afraid all these feelings will come back. Afraid of losing him again. Afraid of falling in love. I miss him more than anything. But then I think to myself again, “Maybe he’s my purpose?”

appearance.

Today appearance has become so important to everyone. It's really annoying actually. When you wake up every morning and go to the mirror, who do you see? Do you see a strong, confident person ready to go to college and be on your own? Or, do you notice all your flaws? Like your hair not looking perfect, your shoes not matching your outfit, or your eye shadow just looks stupid when it actually looks great. Are you afraid of wearing something your mother bought you because people might make fun of it? Or do you not care and wear it to appreciate your mother's willing to give? It makes me sad to think people are so judgmental upon appearance. It also makes me even more sad that I care about people's thoughts and comments.
            I try so hard to break off and be my own person but it is hard. Every day as I am walking to school I see so many pretty, skinny girls. They may be the prettiest girl in the school but their appearance doesn't get them too far in life. But to me, the girls that stand out the most are the girls that are brave enough to be themselves. They don't care about what others say, and they dress to please themselves, not others. They are confident and proud. They don't show any shame of wearing that pink sweater their grandmother made them for Christmas. They are very thankful and comfortable with themselves. They are the girls guys should be chasing, not the girls that are pretty appearance wise but have ugly personalities.
            Be who you want to be, dress how you want to, and most importantly, never let anyone bring you down. You are good at something, and you are unique. Represent your parents and your grandparents as great as you can. Be brave and give yourself high expectations. Someday it will all pay off. You might become a doctor and cure cancer. You might become a teacher and impact many lives. You might become an art therapist and save lives.
            Someday I'll conquer the burden of self-consciousness and be myself. So think before you judge someone. You don't know if they come from an abusive home. You don't know if they are barely making it. You don't know enough.

Live Without Regrets.

suicide.

You wake up thinking today will be just the greatest day until that one phone call.

As of today, I have declared that just one phone call can mess with your head.

Talking on the phone listening to the terrifying news, the world that revolves around you seems to be spinning faster and faster, and then slowly begins to slow down.

You become nauseous. Your entire body becomes numb.

You begin to think about anything you can possibly think of until your eyes are watered, until your fingers are shaking, until your heart is beating so fast.

How is it even possible to be happy when you know people that are constantly struggling every day?

After yesterday's frenzy, I must be an expert of an answering that question.

Is it even possible to recover when you know that someone you grew up with committed suicide?

The word suicide makes my world cloudy.

What is suicide?

Is it cutting the wire that seems to be running the depressed, sick mind?

Is it holding your breathe?

Is it killing that confusion and disappointment?

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You then remember the days in elementary school when you saw that little boy with the long hair laughing, playing, and healthy.

You remember that day when he called you so many names and anger filled your heart.

You remember he used to be right there with you when you struggled in your Algebra class.

Yeah, him. Where did he go?

As you begin to reminisce, you feel . . . dumb . . . stupid . . confused . .

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Someone tell me there's hope after suicide. Someone tell me that what I live for is the right thing.

Someone tell me not to feel the way I do.

I feel useless. I feel powerless. I feel hopeless.

As I benefit myself every single day, one kid that I grew up with is either pregnant, thinking of suicide, getting kicked out of school, or already have committed suicide.

I ache.

I pray every single day that someday I will have the ability to come back to where I grew up and help each and every one of those who got pregnant, thought of suicide, or got kicked out of school.

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We may not have been the best of friends, but just to know that someone that helped me become who I am today is gone forever is the absolute worst feeling in the world.

We may not have been close. We may not have gotten along. We may not have seen the same point of views.

BUT...

Thank you. Thank you for making me achieve for all that I have done today.

I know deep down inside you were a smart, talented, and a good kid.

You will be missed.

Watch what you say to people because words can hurt. Be nice to people and don’t forget to smile.

“ Live with no regrets.”

Vivere Senza Rimpianti