Something to Die For

My first memory of you was a good one. I heard about this new kid, so I wanted to look cool. In my pink t-shirt and baggy bell-bottom jeans, I kicked my legs out in front of my locker and listened to my CD player as loud as possible. I watched you come down the hall. As some 80's rock CD was blaring, I studied you. You had long hair then, the longest of anyone I knew. I liked your shirt.

From that day, I was always excited to see you, even though not a single word of recognition had passed between us. I wanted to hear your voice, I was almost desperate for it. I didn't bother to say anything, though. As you would learn later, I was incredibly shy.

Summer break came and went without a glimpse of you, and I had almost forgotten until my then-best-friend Allie called me on the phone and told me that you were going to be in our class. I was overwhelmed with happiness, but she did have a piece of bad news. You cut your hair.

As fate would have it, we got to sit right next to each other in math and language arts. I was a dorky fifth-grader who had just discovered Hot Topic t-shirts and Converse and to me you were the equivalent of God. I know I must have come off as weird because words would never form correctly around you. You didn't care though and you invited me and my best friend to sit with you every day at the lunch table that always was overflowing with people. You saved us seats, though. You always did.

Do you remember how Alex would tell us jokes and we would laugh so hard that our drinks would come out our noses? Or how about when Stephen and Tim would always have something stupid and perverted to say that would make us laugh because those were 'bad words?' Do you remember trading your juice for my chocolate milk?

You were eventually kind enough to invite me and Allie to join your band. When we started, it was called Point Blank and you had to explain to me what that meant. I still remember the poster you drew for it. I remember it hanging in your locker, or at least I think I do. Wasn't it a picture of a gun? You can probably refresh my memory better on that.

Allie and I, we were guitarists and I wrote some songs. Remember that one I wrote called Life Still Goes On? I hope you still have it, because that was the original copy. I changed it after...well, I'll get to that part of our story. I remember how horribly it sucked because I wrote it in fifteen minutes in the dark before I went to bed. You seemed to like it, though. If you knew I wrote it about you, you didn't say one thing about it to me.

You changed the band name to The Thirteenth Day based on a song that Tim wrote for us. I was greatly angered at this; I didn't think Tim's song was that good. Matter of fact, I didn't like Tim much in the first place. He seemed a little too sly for his own good.

There was this one time that you were busy sitting in Mrs. Holland's chair. I wanted your attention. I knocked a pencil off my desk and then yelled at it. You turned your head, so I dived down for it. I was too short to reach down without the arm of the chair restricting me, but there was too much force for me to stop. I flipped right over. I heard your voice call out my name, and then you were there. Helping me up. I was mesmerized.

Amber came into my life, and we were always fighting over you. It was stupid, really. But you never chose sides. You talked to the both of us as if nothing was going on. I'm sure it was obvious, but you didn't want to make the either of us more angry at one another. At least, that's what I think you was doing.

Whenever we made up, you would walk inbetween us during our five-minute break before we had to return to class. We would go into the bathroom and you would wait outside the door for us, calling "Amber, Elizabeth!"

Do you remember when Allie got so angry and sick that she hit herself with the Gatorade bottle? She went home. It was spring, and they had opened the track up for us to walk on it. You and I, we walked for the half-hour or so of recess on the track, talking and listening to one another. Can you remember what we talked about that day? I can't, but I do remember your face. I remember your hoodie, your laugh.

Remember the Christmas of fifth grade? Wow, what year was that?! I made you a Christmas ornament and I probably burned you 50 CD's. Do you still have them? Probably not, but if you do, do you listen to them?

I went to your house for your birthday party. Stephen was there, and I think Tim was, too. I don't remember all that much. I was so impressed that you could play the drums as well as you did. I was too afraid to do anything but sit on a barstool next to Allie and talk through your drum beat. Stephen had your karaoke machine, if that's what it was, and he started singing Welcome To The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. No offense to him, but it was God-awful. I was the last one left at your house, aside from your family. We started putting together a Lego spaceship. Your brother shut the windows and doors and your mom yelled at him for making it look like "we had closed up shop and kept Elizabeth here!"

I gave you twenty dollars and a home-made card. Stephen and Tim gave you the newest Fall Out Boy CD. You wrote me a thank-you card saying "Thank you for the $!" I still have it.

And you came to my birthday party, too. You bought me a Naruto poster and an Evanescence DVD. I already had the DVD, but I didn't tell you that. I would use that one more often in the future, anyway. You told me that your mom ran all around the store to get it for me because she had to get it taken out of the frame. It was the last one. Later that year, that poster was the victim of a fated truth-or-dare match with Amber, but that's a whole different story.

Sean came, too, and so did Allie. We waited for about a half an hour for Zak to show up, like he said he would. Allie and I finally decided that he'd gotten lost in the Rocky Mountains and continued on with the party. Allie and I started beating Sean with balloons while you watched and shot my dart guns. When we got tired of that, we went upstairs and played Guitar Hero. I remember you wearing the yellow plastic star sunglasses that I gave away as a party favor. You wrapped a ribbon around yourself. I still have that picture. Then we went outside with my brother's fake guns. You and Sean teamed up and fake-shot at Allie and I.

It was wet and muddy and I wasn't wearing any shoes. I was caked in mud up to my knees. I remember sitting down next to Allie on the hill behind my house. You stood there, watching us catch our breath. I'm sure my face was bright red with self-conciousness.

I invited you the next year, but you didn't come. It was too late by then, too late for our friendship to be saved.

Do you remember that time when you were sitting on Stephen's lap, laughing about him being 'Santa?' You rolled the chair over to me and told me to sit down and tell Santa what I wanted for Chriatmas. I told you no. I didn't want you to know how much I liked you.

Since I'm still at it, I remember that one time at your house when we were supposed to have a band meeting. Tim never showed up, so we watched the School Of Rock DVD that I brought over. Your mom took your brothers fishing, so we were home alone with your sister. You closed every window and locked every door. Then you disappeared into your room for a few minutes. When you came back out, you threw a box of your Halloween candy on the ground, generous enough to share with Allie and me.

You drew me a few pictures. They were of Sasuke and Kakashi. I hung them up in my locker. You were so good at drawing and I was proud to have something of yours to display.

We went out for a total of four days. I had a friend of mine give you a note that asked you out. I shook all day, fearing that I ruined our friendship. You said yes later that day. Friday, I had a dentist appointment, and then it was a half-day due to snow. Saturday and Sunday came and went. On Monday, you broke up with me before our first class was over. I was heartbroken, but I knew it was for the best.

In sixth grade, something happened to us. You drifted away from Allie, Amber, and me and started hanging out more with Sarah, Libby, and Abi. All of this seemed to occur to me around Christmas. After Christmas break was over, we hardly talked unless it was a class requirement. My dad still jokes that you were allergic to the cookies that I gave you.

You kicked Allie and me out of your band. Tim gave me the note and my heart broke right there. I hadn't wanted it to be true. "Don't read it until you get on the bus," Tim warned as he handed it to me. I disobeyed, of course, and read it as soon as school got out with Amber and Abby there to support me. If my friends hadn't been there, I would've broken out into a sobbing mess. You told us very bluntly that there was no need for two extra guitarists, therefore we weren't wanted anymore. In all my anger, I tore that note up and threw it back in your face - seriously. You were heading into Mrs. Stecker's room with Libby and Abi. The little, torn up paper squares fluttered down to the ground around you and you didn't say one single word to me. You shook your head and walked into the classroom. Abi and Libby looked at me like I'd gone insane. That day, I would say, was probably the first time I publicly showed my insanity.

I wanted to scream at you, to shake you and hit you and slap you and break down right there in front of you. I wanted to see some sort of remorse on your face. I wanted you to hug me and say you were sorry. But that never happened, because I stormed away. Tim asked me what was wrong as I passed him in the hallway. I turned around and screamed, my voice wavering with tears, "You can go tell him that I think he's a faggot!" Those were powerful words for a sixth grader.

As I talk this over with my friends, some of them come to the conclusion that you were using Allie and me to get famous. You wanted a band, we were guitarists. You wanted to be famous. Others say you just got sick of us. I really don't know what to think. Maybe I wasn't funny anymore. Maybe you realized how creepy I was, how much I actually liked you. Maybe you just wanted to talk to other people.

I know your full name and your birthdate. I know the names of all your brothers. Your favorite color used to be purple. Your favorite Naruto character used to be Kiba. Your favorite song by My Chemical Romance used to be The Ghost Of You. Your favorite band used to be Fall Out Boy. I know that "I HATE BAH" is carved into the paper towel dispenser in the girl's bathroom by the gym because I watched it happen. I know someone put a curse on you because I showed them how.

I know that you got out just in time. A tsunami crashed over our lives and drown the happiness that was there. I can only be thankful that you escaped just in time. You didn't have to witness my steady descent into horrible insanity and depression.

So, maybe you had better things going for you or maybe you were using me. Maybe you could see what was happening to us and knew you didn't want that for yourself.

But let me tell you something, Brandon Andrew Harper; A day hasn't gone by where I haven't thought about you or what our friendship might have been. A day hasn't gone by where I haven't felt that gaping emptiness of the two long, wasted years that we were friends. A day hasn't gone by where I haven't wondered if you were thinking about me or looking at a picture I gave you or listening to a CD I burned for you. A day hasn't gone by where I don't regret trying to look cool for you on your first day of school.

A day hasn't gone by where I understand why I still cry for you.