Shoot The Runner.
How many times have I been shot at? Oh too many to count. I used to leave the wounds open, you know, pretend they weren't there. But now I'm taking the time to fix all and I can start my life again.
Problem #1: Evie.
Evie is seventeen. The same age as me. She is my first problem. I could've stopped her from being a problem, I guess. But what can I do? Evie is the prettiest girl I've ever seen, she has dark brown hair and eyes to match. She has this light tanned skin and man has she got a great body! I asked her out when I was 15 and we've been dating ever since. Well, until about two months ago. Now she turns away every time I walk past her. But I know she secretly watches me walk by.
Why is she a problem anyway? It's funny. The two of us went to a party about two months ago. Everything was going well, she looked hot and we were dancing and drinking. Until I had to go outside to take a break. Ricky and Joe two of my best friends were already outside, smoking. The three of us were laughing and playing around until Lisa came outside. This is where the problem started. You see, Joe and Ricky went back inside while I stayed outside talking to Lisa. She was a good friend of mine, nothing more. Oh sure she was sitting pretty close to me and I had my arm around her, but that doesn't mean anything does it? Anyway, Evie came storming outside, pretty angry. Ricky had told her that I was outside, cheating on her with Lisa. This isn't true. But to this day she still won't listen to me. I really think she wants me back; she's just too embarrassed to admit she's wrong. But now she dates other guys.
So I have to deal with her watching me go by and not saying a thing.
Problem #2: Sodapop.
Sodapop is seventeen. The same age as me. He is my second problem. I could've stopped him from being a problem, I guess. But what can I do? Sodapop and I used to be best friends. I met him when we were nine, at school one day. It's your basic I-was-sitting-alone-and-Sodapop-sat-next-to-me-at-lunch type story. But the two of us were inseparable. We did everything together. Played football after school, gave the other guys girl cooties, and got sent out of class together. Well, we didn't start getting sent out of class until we were about fifteen. And this is where the problem starts.
It happened two years ago; the two of us were in English. I'm not a big fan of school, either is Sodapop. Anyway the two of us were sitting in the back row with Sodapop's other best friend Steve. I didn't get along with Steve. But we were nice to each other because we both liked Sodapop. So the three of us were sitting there, bored shitless. As the teacher read aloud from her textbook at the front of the room, I felt it would be fun to make paper airplanes with 'rude words' written on the sides of them. And then throw them at all the girls. Of course one of us had to throw one at Gloria, a Soc. The Soc actually. Gloria is the popular girl everyone wants to be friends with. Anyway, she gave the paper plane to the teacher, who sent the three of us to the principal's office. Sure we could've denied it was us but I really hate English. So off we went to the principal where the three of us got three days suspension. Awesome, three day vacation! We organized to meet at the corner store the next morning. But only Steve turned up the next day. And he came babbling about some story of Sodapop's parents being disappointed in him and he isn't allowed to talk to me anymore.
So I have to deal with Sodapop completely ignoring me and Steve giving me dirty looks every time I go by.
Problem #3: School.
School is horrible. I absolutely hate it. It's my third problem. I could've stopped it from being a problem, I guess. But what can I do? I didn't mind school. I used to like going so I could see Sodapop and my other friends. But once he wasn't able to talk to me I didn't see any use in going. I wasn't learning anything. I used to try and make excuses as to why I couldn't go. But my mother wouldn't take any of it. You are to go to school and that's that, she used to say. So after Evie left and I wasn't allowed to see Sodapop I started getting into other things. Things that were better than going to school. You know, drinking, parties and drugs, sometimes.
It started two years ago a few weeks after Sodapop, Steve and I got suspended. I was in Math class and really didn't wanna do my work that day. I wasn't going to go to school at first but my mother ever so kindly gave me a ride to school. So I was sitting in Math class and I was called on to answer a question. I had a car magazine tucked into my textbook so of course I had no idea what was going on. I told the teacher I didn't know the answer, and that was when it started. The two of us argued for maybe ten minutes before he finally sent me off to the principal. I grabbed my books and stormed out of there. That teacher was trying to make me look like an idiot, I told the principal. But he wouldn't listen; of course he wasn't on my side. I got suspended again and was told if I was suspended again any time soon then I could be expelled. Fine by me. After I got back from suspension I tried everything to get expelled. But instead ended up staying for an after school detention everyday. I only really tried for a week. Until I gave up. I wasn't learning anything, I lost my friends that week and I was bored. So why not leave?
So I have to deal with being a loner because no one would listen.
Problem #4: Joe and Ricky.
Ricky and Joe are seventeen. The same age as me. They are my fourth problem. I could've stopped them from being a problem, I guess. But what can I do? Ricky and Joe used to be my best friends, along with Sodapop. They didn't like Sodapop all that much. But they didn't mind hanging around him. The problem with Ricky and Joe started one day about two weeks after I left school. My mother didn't mind me leaving school as long as I spent my days doing constructive things.
I was waiting for them after school one day. I used to meet them sometimes since I had nothing better to do. So I was waiting by the car park when the last bell of the day went. It had been a few minutes when Ricky and Joe came up to me. I had taken my brother's car that day to pick them up. For no reason except we're too lazy to walk. So they hopped in and immediately saw my stash. They asked who's it was and I said some was mine and some was my friend Marks. They listened to what I said and didn't say anything else about it. So off we went driving along, fast of course. Going through red lights and screaming at people out the windows as we went by. Eventually I saw the lights flashing in the rearview mirror. The police wanted us to pull over. I looked to Ricky right away who was sitting in the passanger seat. He told me not to pull over but I knew the police guys wouldn't give up. So I pulled over and the officer got out and came over to us. I tried to hide my stash but he saw it and he took us down to the station. It all happened really fast. One second I was sitting in the car the next I was being pushed through the doors of the station. I claimed it was Ricky and Joe's. But they said it was mine. So they threw us into a cell while they called our parents. My brother came and got me right away, since he's eighteen. Ricky and Joe's parents let them stay there; at least they won't cause trouble. That's why Ricky and Joe haven't spoken to me since.
So that's the reason I had to find new people to talk to and hang around with. You know, friends.
Problem #5: Jean.
Jean is fifteen. Two years younger than me. She's my fifth problem. I could've stopped her from being a problem, I guess. But what can I do? Jean is my younger sister. I have an older brother too. We all lived with my mother. This problem with Jean started the day after I was hauled in by the cops. They had taken away my stash but Mark had given me some more. It was hidden in the back of my wardrobe. Anyway, my mother, Jean and I were having dinner when the phone rang. She went off to answer it and we two sat there quietly trying to hear what was being said. My mother came back in the room muttering things under her breath. Apparently my brother had been at a bar all day and was too drunk to find his way home. So off my mother went to pick him up.
There we were. Sitting in silence while we ate. Not looking at each other or saying a word. 'I know what happened yesterday,' Jean said finally breaking the silence. I nodded. 'Great,' I said. I didn't care if she knew. Everyone probably knew by now. 'So are you just gonna spend your days doing drugs now? Sittin' around with Mark? You guys are dumbasses,' she muttered and giggled a little. I didn't mean to do it but since Mark was my only friend now I had to stand up for him. I leaned across the table and hit her across the head. 'Don't you ever say that again,' I yelled at her. She went off to her room, crying. I sat there alone at the table until my mother came home with my brother. She asked where Jean was and I said she was in her room. My mother went off to see her and came out smiling. Which was funny because I thought Jean would tell her what I did. So now I was getting stoned everyday and hitting Jean more and more. I couldn't help it. I wasn't myself when I was drinking and stuff. I had no control over what I did. Sometimes I wouldn't even remember doing it but when I woke up in the morning and Jean had a new bruise I would know it was me who did it. This continued for awhile. Well only three weeks really.
So I had a pretty good life, no school, sittin' around all day and letting my anger out on my sister.
Problem # 6: Leaving.
I left three weeks after everything started with me hitting Jean. Mark caught me hitting her once and the look on his face made me realize what I was doing. So the next day I packed up my things and moved in with Mark. He lived with his friends Scott and Donna. They lived in a little white cement house, just the three of them. Anyone was welcome to stay over whenever they wanted. As long as they were a greaser and didn't tell anyone what they did in the house. Yes, it was one of those houses where everyone went to do what they had to do and then leave. So anyway, I saw my brother sometimes out in the streets and at parties. We'd talk and laugh as if we were friends. We didn't talk about what I did or about Jean or mom. I don't think he told mom he saw me. But I didn't care. I was happy. I mean I was seventeen, living with friends, didn't go to school, went to parties every night. . . What more could you want?
What more could I want? There were lots more I wanted. Like my girlfriend back, my best friend back, my sister to talk to me again. . . The list was endless.
This morning I saw my brother.
He told me my mother and sister wants me around again.
At first I thought he was joking.
But now I think I agree with them.
Ryan.