Amy Manning Original Writing Coursework
Nobody knowsDo you remember when you were seven?
And the only thing that you wanted to do
Was show your mum that you could play the piano.
10 years have passed
And the one thing that will last
Is the same old song that we played along,
That made my mother cry
Innocent Eyes: Delta Goodrem
When I was young I believed that the devil was a wasp that brought bad things like death and pain into the world, and that God was an ant; scurrying around trying to pick up the pieces of debris that fell after the devil had gone home. When I was seven there was a piece of debris that was too heavy that God couldn't pick up. My name is Peyton Sawyer and I lost my belief in the ant beating the wasp a long time ago.
I wasn't like the other people in my class. I didn't care if somebody wasn't wearing an outfit that matched. Or whether our team had won the latest game. To be honest, I wanted them to lose. I don't even remember doing it. Don't really care. Couldn't be bothered to. I'm not the freak. They are.
As the telephone's low ring was drowned out by the loud droning of one of the cheesy soaps on the television I could tell that tonight my life would change whether I liked it or not. Sitting at the head of the stairs engulfed in shadows, I watched as my dad disappeared; leaving an empty shell of a man that I now do not recognise and whom I will never have back.
I was told that we needed to go to the hospital as somebody was very ill and wanted to see me. I was told that they will get better and that it was only so that they could kiss me goodnight and to say that they will be back soon. Little did I know that that kiss goodnight meant a kiss goodbye.
I remember the details of that night as though they had been tattooed on the back of my hand. A constant painful reminder of what I had lost. The hospital smelled of stale bleach and sick people; the lights made my eyes hurt as they were too bright, people crying. The air was bitter cold and as the light speckle of snow tickled my face, I sensation that would once excite and amuse me, I huddled into my dad to escape from; as I thought that I could never have that feeling back again.
Oh, the sob stories that I would hear walking through that hall. "He cheated on me" Boo freaking Hoo. No wonder if you look like that. "It's the anniversary of my mum's death so I'm sorry if I shout at anybody today" Lucky woman. She didn't have to see how fat you had become. That is how everybody must think I am. But it isn't. My name is Jimmy Edwards and I died on the 25th of October 2005.
That night I could not sleep, I couldn't eat; it felt like a battle to breathe. The tears pricked at my eyes as the lights of the hospital shrank in the distance I thought of all of the things that was left behind there. From now on there was no one to dance with in the mornings to wake ourselves up. No more girls' days out; just us two. Nobody to magically make the pain go away if I scraped my knee. My superhero was gone. My superhero had met their kryptonite.
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I'm not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I'm ok
But that's not what gets me
What hurts the most: Rascall Phlatts
As I grew up I craved the relationship that I had lost when my mum died. I thought that I could never love somebody as much as I loved her. I was quiet. Sometimes withdrawn, concentrated on my studies. I had a few friends but not many. And I yearned for love.
The day that my mum left was the worst day of my life. No, forget that. It was the best. It put me in my place. Nobody loved me. Everybody thought that I was repulsive. Ugly. Lazy. A freak. At school I was the outcast. I was the stupid boy whose friends dumped me at the first chance that they got. The "Beautiful People" made fun of me. I needed a way out. I needed to teach them that they couldn't treat anybody like that anymore.
My dad worked away after I started secondary school a lot so I was left alone a lot. Most teenagers would think of this as a type of heaven; however for me it was hell. My friendships were complicated. My relationships even more. I got no advice on anything. And the advice if I did get any was usually bad.
After the age of ten I developed a love of music. To me music was the only constant in a life full of change. I associate the lyrics of some songs with certain times in my life or the emotions that I feel in a specific moment.
I saw how everybody had their friends, the way they treated them. And then the way they treated me. They gave each other nicknames such as "Mouth", "Tutor Girl" and "Tigger". Oh they gave me nicknames too, oh they gave me a lot of nicknames. Want to know my favourites? "Fatso" "Oompa Loma" "Orphan Boy" "Shrek."
My plan worked out easily. My dad had the equipment in his office. All I had to do was follow it through.
"Hey dude have you ever wondered why your mum disappeared? Maybe she was psychic and saw how pathetic you became"
"Loser"
"Fatty! Wait up fatty."
"Belly's going to get you!"
BANG!
I heard the speech. I heard the crack as though somebody had popped a cork of a bottle. I was shocked to find out what happened. People were crying to cameras. Some tripe about how they were best friends with him. How they lost their rock. How they didn't expect it. How they didn't know why he did it. Maybe they were that blind. As I ran out of the school I turned to look for somebody and I caught a glimpse of his grandmother. She was devastated. Jimmy was her superhero. Even though the ant won in my life. The wasp kept stinging here in hers. And it took away her superhero. And she had no family to help her come back and stamp on that wasp. As I regained everything in my life. She had lost it in hers at a time in her life it would be impossible to recover it in hers.
Jimmy Edwards was the kind of person that you wouldn't remember his name five minutes after talking to him. He was nice. But in our school nice doesn't go very far. You have to be hip, cool, you have to stand up for yourself or be left in the background. Many people remember the day as clearly as I remember the night my mum died. Our school lost a member because they were too blind to see what a wonderful person that they were about to lose. And I'm ashamed to say that I was one of them. We should have seen it coming. We all should have anticipated something like what happened.
Nobody knows,
Nobody knows but me that I sometimes cry,
I could pretend that i'm asleep
When my tears start to fall,
I peak out from behind this wall
I think nobody knows
Nobody likes
Nobody likes to lose their inner voice
The one I used to hear before my life
Now I'm not sure
But I know nobody knows
Baby your secrets safe with me
There's nowhere else into the world that I could ever be
And Baby don't ever feel that you're all alone
Whose going to be there after the last angel has gone
I think that I've lost my way back home
Nobody knows,
I think nobody knows
Nobody cares
If we lose just how we play the game
Nobody Knows: Pink