Walking Travesty

I met Rob during our freshman year of high school. Our school hosted a “Welcome Fair” for all of the incoming students. They really went all out for the occasion: ferris wheel, tilt-a-whirl, carnival games, cotton candy, elephant ears, funnel cakes, hot dog stand, even a small roller coaster. Of course there were tables set up for each extra curricular activity there was at our small school. 800 students and one hallway. It wasn’t much, but it was home for the next four years.

I was new to town. My dad was laid off from his job and said he wanted to move back “home.” He had lived in this town when he was younger. Or last least until his mom died and he had to move in with his grandparents about 1200 miles away. So no surprise in the fact that I didn’t have any friends when the fair rolled around.

I must have looked lonely, because when it was my turn to get on the ferris wheel, some guy, whom I had never met, slid in next to me. I was hesitant to talk to him at first, but he seemed nice. We exchanged names and banter about what we imagined the next four years would be like at school. Rob and I both agreed that we were terrified, yet extremely excited for a new journey in our lives.

Once our ride was finished, Rob insisted that I meet some of his closest friends. School was going to start in just 2 days, so I told him that it couldn’t hurt to have some friends when I got there.

He took me over to the caricature booth to get a picture of the two of us drawn. We decided to get one done for each of us to have. When we were finished, he introduced me to the guy who had drawn our pictures. His name was Mike, and he was apparently Rob’s older brother. Not only was Mike an amazing artist, but he was hilarious too. I couldn’t stop laughing the whole time we talked that night.

Next were the extra curricular booths. Rob thought it would be a great way to meet a lot of people. I decided to sign up for theater club, choir, and yoga class. Rob told me they were great choices and that he had also signed up for the same three activities, earlier in the day. I laughed at the fact that Rob signed up for yoga, but he blew it off with a sarcastic remark about how “real men do yoga.”

After that night, Rob and I were practically attached at the hip. We hung out almost every day. Actually turned out that we lived two houses apart. I soon began wondering what happened to all of Rob’s friends he had before I moved here. A few months after we met, I sat him down one night to ask about it. He told me that growing up, he was bullied a lot. It started out as just a few people taunting him, but since it was a small town, word got around fast. Pretty soon, everyone stopped speaking to him. I suddenly realized why he was so terrified to start high school.

Rob told me about how he had been seeing a therapist for the past 2 years. Nobody knew about it except for his family. It would spread like wildfire if anyone else knew, and he didn’t want that. He told me that his therapist suggested signing up for theater, choir, and yoga. All three were different art forms and all three were said to be therapeutic.

We finished our freshman and sophomore years of high school as really close friends. The summer after sophomore year, however, something terrible happened. I got a call from Rob’s mother saying he was in the hospital. She wouldn’t tell me anything other than I needed to get there as soon as possible; that Rob needed me. I got to the hospital to find out that Rob had overdosed on pills. He had tried to kill himself.

The doctors pumped his stomach and kept him on suicide watch for 7 days before releasing him from the hospital. After that happened, we didn’t see much of each other for awhile. His doctors and parents had agreed on a strict regime for him to follow. I wasn’t included in his day-to-day plans. His parents told me that I would “hinder his progress.”

Rob and I being as close as we were couldn’t and wouldn't stop being friends. Especially not because his parents said so. We talked, for hours, at least three times a week. At first it was just Rob having a sardonic attitude towards everything in his life. He was stuck in his room, 24/7, all while his parents never left him alone. After a few months, his attitude turned halycon and things seemed like they were back to normal. Rob’s parents and doctor’s agreed he was much better and that he could start going to school again.

That definitely had to be the calm before the storm.

I am now standing over Rob’s casket. Watching his lifeless body as I cry my eyes out. Both of his parents are standing on the opposite side of the room, hand in hand. They seem to be all cried out. That doesn’t make sense to me. He’s only been gone for 5 days now.

I had went over to Rob’s house the morning his parents said he could return to school. I knocked on the door. No answer. I yelled his name. No reply. As I was walking up the stairs, I heard a song playing really loudly. I automatically knew something was wrong, because Rob always used headphones when listening to music. He didn’t want to share his favorite music with his parents. The songs he listened to were personal.

I heard the lyrics to this particular song as I reached the top of the stairs: “therapy, you were never a friend to me. You can keep all your misery.” Rob’s door was open. I ran inside only to find his body laying on the floor, with empty pill bottles laying all around him. I fell to my knees and immediately began sobbing.

After calling 911, I noticed there was a note in Rob’s hand. Screaming at me were the final nine words Rob had ever communicated with the world:

I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything.