Chapter Eleven - Masquerade

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Corren to the side there ---->

Life is one big masquerade. If you want me to delve further into it, then I'll say it's one huge masquerade ball. The idea of this theme is to hide behind a mask, dress extremely formal, and engage in a waltz with a mysterious stranger. Why do we honor this theme? Why do we celebrate it when in reality that it is something we do every single day of our lives? Before introductions, you meet someone. You're strangers until the actual greeting, but even then you're both wearing masks with each other. They don't truly know who you are until you've let your walls, or "mask" down. Where does that leave you then? The definition of the word masquerade is 'a false show or pretense.' I say you're a liar if you believe you've never once been in your own masquerade. The question is, did they ever find out your true face?

Miles returned to school the following day. I noticed he kept eyeing Vanessa curiously. I felt smug. Miles was now going in the right direction. For once, Miles and I made it class early. The time remaining was left to mindless conversation.

"I don't know, Mate. I'm so confused with this whole lot. It all stings, you know?"

"That's heart break for you, buddy. American style."

Miles chuckled. "Hate to break it to you, Mate, but love is love- no matter the gender or the Continent. And with love, comes pain. 'Tis all the same, I tell you."

I laughed half-heartedly. "Yeah, you got me there."

Miles was quiet. "I'm quite sick of the ache though. Maybe I should suppress everything for a while."

"No," My head snapped to him. "If you think being emotionally numb is great then you're wrong. It's hard to feel anything but a void after a while. It's like you'll never experience happiness again, even if it's standing at your doorstep. I'm warning you, don't flip the switch."

"Alright, alright! No need to get so intense!"

"I mean it, Miles. Sometimes you don't come back from being numb. I've seen it." My mother.

Mr. Fitzgerald strolled in as the bell rang. "Alright, class! This morning the entire teaching staff has been instructed to show you a video on account of Anna Bae's departure from this world. May she rest in peace." He yanked down a projection screen over the white board.

Mr. Fitzgerald hurried over to his desk where he typed some things into his computer. He grabbed a small remote and pointed it to the overhead projector on the ceiling.

"Lucus, would you get the lights?" The teacher ordered more than asked.

A kid lazily stood up and flipped off the two light switches. An image was displayed on the screen. It was the school's website with a video waiting to be played on the home page. Mr. Fitzgerald clicked it from his computer. I saw the video was titled Dealing with Suicide, Depression, and More. I rolled my eyes. Great. Exactly what I need. I thought bitterly. The video begun starting with a young girl, probably a Freshman, with tears rolling down her face.

"You know it's not fair when someone takes their life," She sobbed. "How can you be that selfish?"

The video switched to a dark skinned boy, most likely a Senior. "It's devastating. You think about their families, their friends. How are dealing with it?"

"The truth is we don't deal," The scene had switched to an older woman with watery red eyes. "We're in a lot of pain," Her voice cracked. "Why couldn't they have told us something was wrong?"

"It feels like it's your fault. It's like, what have I done? What could I have done? It's so unfair."

A few more scenes went on like that. The video finally introduced Rebecca, a red-haired girl who was bullied until she finally slit her wrists one day. The next kid was James who shot himself. Lacey was a girl who overdosed. The last kid was my brother.

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