Crumbling

Crumbling                                                                                   

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Note: sorry for the extensive use of slang in this work, it was used so to make the characters more realistic. I know however, that it is not grammatically correct to use in the English language. Enjoy.

“The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones” Chinese proverb.

My name is Marshall Gerald Gourde So many changes can happen in such a short time. But the more things change the more they stay the same. I saved myself that first year of high school by mere luck. You see my family went to New York that whole summer, on holidays, that is why nothing happened to me, and everything to the people all around me. Those I saw as innocent and almost angelic befell the cruel and cold hands of peer pressure and the everlasting conflict between wanting to be in the in crowd. Sometimes the stakes are too high, and in some cases you tend to lose it all. I shan’t bother you with lengthy and mysterious messages; I will instead take you deep into my world. Into the lively characters that I call friends, the ones that surround every part of my life and fill me with energy, the ones I dearly tried to save from a certain doom created with their own two hands. For one creates his own future, there is no set path in which our lives travel, we can twist and bend and create a path through the jungle that is life. Well without further delay let’s begin, it was the beginning of the new school year, I had finally finished grade 9, and it had been the worst year of my life. I had almost failed the grade; you see I wasn’t very bright, I still don’t think I am. All I am good at is some sports, and being a good friend, well I think I am a good friend, I mean I try to help everyone, I don’t care who it is, or if I even know that person. I believe it is my vocation to help other people deal with the issues of their lives. And I am really good at it too. In junior high however, the issues everyone came to me for advice were things like, if that guy liked this girl, or who should dump who or ask someone out. These were the most complicated things that were going on in grade 8 and 9. When I came back to school, into grade 10, everything changed however, and I was shocked at how quickly.

I still remember it as if it was yesterday, it was still practically summer, and I remember my father driving me to the school in his convertible. Man did I like his convertible, even more the fact that he had promised me he would give it to me if I did well in school this year. The light breeze strolled through my hair and it blew it back, making it look sleek and cool. My dad stopped the car, and I got out, got my backpack from the back seat. I waved goodbye to my father and left, dressed in my new black leather jacket and my jeans. It was the first day of school and as any other kid would feel, I was very nervous. My stomach turned and twisted, I felt like leaning over the garbage can and vomiting this morning’s breakfast. I kept steady for my reputation, I really didn’t want to have a bad one first day of school!

I walked over to the doors and recognized many of my old friends, I waved at them and they waved back. Then I proceeded inside, there was a tall professor in the middle of the hall, he was telling everyone where they were supposed to go. I went to him and he instructed me on where to go. I walked over to my class, I looked on my information sheet, and I looked for my locker number and finally found it. I walked around the halls until I found the right number; it was in the row next to my homeroom. I put my things in the locker and got out the notebook and pen I was required to carry around on the first day. I went into class and sat down in the middle of the room. I watched as everyone else came in, I recognized almost everyone. We had been together since kindergarten, and all through elementary. Some people had left, others had come. Overall however, most people knew each other personally from a long time ago. They knew each other’s parents and where they lived. I said hello to everyone and introduced myself to the people I didn’t know. There was Michael, or Mike for short, we had known each other since grade 1. We had been best friends ever since, sometimes exchanging girlfriends and taking blame for something the other did. We were good buds, we trusted each other with everything, and before doing anything we discussed it thoroughly. There was also Michelle, she is the girl of everyone’s dreams, she was sweet and soft, and she could cheer you up on your worst day and kill you with her eyes another time. She was the best friend I ever had next to Mike; I liked her ever since I met her, which was in grade 4. I knew she was something special, someone I would be happy around no matter what life threw at me. She was that special someone everyone has, or should have. She must have known I really liked her for in grade 8 she came over to me and explained to me what she thought, what she felt. She told me that she really cared about me, and that she liked me, but only as a friend. My heart sunk when she said this, the next words she spoke killed me softly, like a knife slicing through butter it stabbed at my heart and pierced it with extreme scrutiny. It killed me inside and I struggled to keep a straight face, I didn’t want to show how much her words were hurting me at the moment. And the way she said it didn’t help either, she seemed so sure, so determined, and so cold. Like every time she spoke, or did something, she was focused on what she wanted and nothing was going to stop her. The words slipped and slithered out of her mouth like King Cobras ready to poison me and lead me to my death. Yes, she told me that she cared about me, but that she couldn’t love me, as we were too good friends for that, so she went on to tell me that instead, she loved Mike. I couldn’t believe she was doing this to me. Mike was my best friend, and she knew I really liked her, yet she went on to love my best friend. It knocked me down; I said that I was fine with that with as much neutrality as I could. She hugged me, and I just wanted to keep her for another second, but she retreated and I sullenly walked home. I was grim the whole week. I mean, I was well liked, and I knew I could get every girl I wanted, yet the one I actually cared about was off to someone else. I never quite got over that, or the fact that Mike and her dated for a year and a half, they seemed happy, yet he cheated on her for a cheerleader, her name was Debbie. She was good friends with Michelle, and I was shocked when Michelle came to me crying telling me how Mike was cheating on her with Debbie. Rage overwhelmed me. Mike didn’t know what he had, and now he would lose it. I stalked over to his home and sure enough there were two cars parked there. One for Debbie one for Mike, I found the key underneath the doormat and I stalked inside. I remember grabbing Mike by his shirt and punching him as hard as I could, square in the jaw, he stumbled back and fell on the couch. Blood procured from his chin and mouth, he was angry too. We fought for many minutes with Debbie’s screams in the background. Then Michelle came and tried to stop the fight. We separated and Mike actually pushed Michelle down and went off to his car. Debbie chased after him, but not before giving us a dirty look. She shut the door with a bang and went off to her car. I heard as they both left, then I was left in his home, cleaning his mess. I started cleaning up when I saw Michelle in a corner, crying. I comforted her, we stayed there for hours, then we left in my car, I drove her home, and she thanked me for trying to do well. She went inside and I didn’t see her the rest of the week. Mike and I didn’t speak to each other until he and Michelle broke up. Then I came to him one evening and told him that it wasn’t worth it to lose a friendship over a girl. He agreed and we became friends again, yet it was never the same, we still trusted each other, it was just sort of, well awkward.