Scrap/Early Writings

The history of a friend.

I was a misfit. I acted like a misfit; I fit the description line perfectly. I had pitch black eyes with thick glasses. My nose was barley there and my chin was fairly long. I was small, and always had the same outfit on at least twice a week. My shoes were always old and my hair was troll-like. I didn’t mind though. I liked who I was, even if others didn’t. I was always picked on, and pushed around in school, but I quickly learned to get over it.

I lived with my dad, just me and him. He didn’t make much money, but he did everything he could to make me happy. For my birthday, he’d always get me a chocolate cake and a colouring book with a brand new pencil crayon set. I loved it. I always liked to colour. We weren’t very rich, but we were happy, and that’s was really all we needed.

On the first day of sixth grade, there was a new student in the class. He looked very shy and nervous. I sort of felt sorry for him. When the teacher turned her back, the other guys in the class started to tease him. He was a very snappy dresser. He was wearing a sweater vest and a dress shirt with some very fancy pants. I smiled. His hair was very greasy and his nose was fairly large. He also had glasses on, not as thick as mine but they were there. He nervously sat in his assigned seat and tried to ignore the teasing. He looked very lost at lunch time. Many kids were staring and pointing. These acts were quite rude.

I walked up to him, knowing how he must of felt. “Hello. Would you like to sit with me?” I asked. He made a funny face, and then nodded. I turned around and nodded my head to signal him to follow. I led him to my usual spot under a small tree very far away from the playground.

“Why are we so far from the school? Won’t we get in trouble?” he asked.

I smiled again. “No one ever comes around here. Do you know what that means?” he shook his head as we sat under the shade of the tree. “It means that no one can be mean to us, because no one is here to do so.” I said. He smiled and told me his name. I told him mine. He told me that he was being picked on a lot at his old school, and that he was transferred here instead. He used to go to a private school, but he really wanted to go to a public because he thought the kids were nicer. We finished up our lunches and got back into the school just before the bell. He sat next to me in class this time, and we instantly became friends from there on.

In the next few weeks he asked if I wanted to come over to his house to play videogames. I told him that I had never played video games before, and then he really wanted me to come over. I was really sad to tell him that I couldn’t, because my dad wasn’t home and that I couldn’t ask him if it was okay or not.

“Why don’t you just ask you mum?” he asked

I paused. “I don’t have a mum. Not anymore at least.”

“How does that work out?”

“My mom left us a long time ago.”

“But she’s still your mum.”

“No. She isn’t. She can’t be. She left me and my dad and went to the states with someone else, so you see; she’s not really my mom anymore, because she left.” At leaset that’s what my dad told me. I don’t get it much, but if my dad said so, it had to be true.

“Oh.”

“I can ask when he gets home tonight, so that we can play tomorrow. Would that be okay?”

He agreed, and the next day we played video games at his house. All the stuff he had was amazing. A huge television, loads of video games and lots and lots of toys. “Wow,” I commented. “You have a very nice house.”

“Thanks?”

I smiled and he taught me how to play his favourite video game. Truth be told it was very confusing at first, but I got the hang of it soon enough, time went by so fast.

When I got home, I asked my dad if I could get a videogame set. My dad beamed and said, “When I get that promotion, that video game set is all yours sweetheart.” I hugged him very tightly that night.

My friend and I became very close best friends. We always watched movies and played video games at his house. It was so big and fancy. I didn’t want to bring him anywhere near my home. Dad and I lived in a two bedroom apartment about a block away from school. It was very small, with a small television with three channels and a very old couch set my grandma had given us. My room was nothing compared to his. I had a small bed with a few stuffed animals and a very small closet, mostly filled with my mom’s old clothes. It had a small dresser with a neat pile of coloured colouring books and a square container filled with very small pencil crayons that I had used out. There were only eight colours, the same eight I received every year- Red, blue, yellow, orange, purple, green, brown, and black. The small nibs of wood looked very colourful as they were scattered and crammed in the small container. I could never bring him here. He’d just laugh at how small everything was. So I always avoided him coming over.

One day, he insisted on coming to my house to do a project in the seventh grade. I was crestfallen. What was I supposed to do? I told him that it was a bad idea, that my house was a mess and that my maid couldn’t come in this week. He told me that he didn’t mind. My heart raced. He couldn’t see where I lived. He complained that I always came over to his house and that he’d never been to my house. I finally caved.

“Before I show you where I live, you have to know, I don’t really have a maid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, maids are too expensive for us.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

Maybe this could go okay after all. We continued to walk on until we reached my building.

“You live here?” he asked.

Or maybe not, “Yes.” I said in a very quite voice.

“This is so cool; I’ve always wanted to know what the inside of these buildings looked like but my mom never let me come in one of them!”

We finished our project in the hallway out side my door. My kitchen was a mess, so we decided to finish it outside. I did some really neat drawings, and he printed all of the words nice and neat. I wish I could write as neat as him. We were doing an English project on this book we both read a book called

“Do you have any popcorn?”

“No, I’m sorry, but we do have nuts. Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

I smiled and knew that everything would be okay between us. He didn’t seem to mind the fact that we didn’t have much.

IMPORTED VIA LIVEJOURNAL @ 11 October 2007 @ 09:47 pm