And There She Was

School has been getting harder since my doctor had diagnosed me with depression. I guess it just hit me all at once, that there is really something wrong with me. I’m a really messed up kid. I mean, who the hell gets clinically diagnosed depression? You only hear about a friend of a friend who has it, you never even imagine that you would have it yourself. Antidepressants, antipsychotics and sleeping pills have been a staple of my diet recently. But I digress.

School has been getting harder, exams have come and gone, it’s the end of year nine, and I’m looking forward to being able to pass for a somewhat half decent adult. I may be only fifteen, but I have the mental maturity, vocabulary and intellect of someone double my age. And that makes it all the more hard to be stuck around douchy, jockey and mentally retarded kids all the time.

Being a fifteen year old boy, of course, comes with hormones going out of control. The search for a girlfriend has made my life a living hell. I know nobody that likes my taste in music, I know nobody that is interested in music like I am and the closest person that would come to even barely passable (well, actually, I would date her in a second) is my best friend, Elise. She’s one of the funniest people I know, she’s gorgeous, she’s got an amazing taste in music and she plays bass. She’s perfect.

One of the things I made sure to do to make sure I wasn’t a complete social outcast was to go to parties on weekends. I’m a likeable guy, I guess, I have a good sense of humour and I’m a nice, caring guy. One time, I was getting ready for a party held by one of my friends, a muso and well known drug dealer, his name was Zach. This particular party was going to be a blast, there was a live band playing, a bunch of alcohol and hopefully, a bit of hash and blow.

I made my way there around 5:30pm to talk to Zach and help set up the party and help the band set all their stuff up. The party officially started at 8, but people started showing up at 7:30. Drinks were set up and people were well on their way to getting pissed. I was mingling with some people, and getting a buzz from the vodka cruiser that I was casually sipping on, and the band was just about to get started. I was talking to Zach for a second, when I looked around, and there she was. Charlotte, the girl of my dreams. Zach told me she was going to be here, but she never comes to any parties like this. I didn’t exactly believe him.

“Zachary, my friend, you know who that is?” I asked him as I pointed straight towards her, majestically.

“Someone you’re going to be in 7 inches deep with by the end of tonight? He said with a sly grin on his face.

“Hey, careful, man, she’s a teen princess,” I said admonishingly, “But yeah, hopefully!” I joked.

We laughed for a second when he said, “Dude, just go talk to her!” He said, patting my shoulder.

“Easier said than done, my man. I think I need some courage,” I said, tapping my nose.

He understood, and told me to follow him. We went upstairs to his room, and he got me a 1 gram baggie of cocaine.

“Purest shit I’ve ever had, man, 98% pure Colombian. Enjoy it, and go get some tail, man.” He said as he handed me the metal straw and gave me the small mirror and razor blade. I thanked him and told him we should split it, and he was very easily persuaded. I opened the baggie and tipped the contents out onto the mirror, chopped it up and lined it up, two identical lines.

“Cheers, motherfucker!” I grinned as I leant down, metal straw in hand and took it all in one snort. I whipped my head up and took a deep breath. The coke was in the early stages of kicking in, the burning in my nose was starting to become evident. Zach leant down and took it all in one hit as well. He snapped up and had a smile from ear to ear. The band was playing Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy, the perfect music for the moment. The bass was tripping me out, I felt like I could do anything. The coke was buzzing the shit out of me, time was slowing down and my pulse was beating to the song. She was dressed in jeans and band merch, and she couldn’t be more perfect than she was at that moment. She was standing alone in the corner, sipping on her rum and coke. I decided to go talk to her.

A 15 year old beauty queen, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair a mix of blonde, red and blue. Wearing a red tartan shirt, a Green Day shirt and blink-182 badges, with black skinny jeans and yellow Converse hi-tops, she was the vision of perfection I had always dreamed about. I had talked to her on Facebook occasionally, and she was so funny. She was passionate about her music, she loved Tom Delonge, Travis Barker and Mark Hoppus with a passion and she was so, so, so smart. I had a conversation with her once about the US presidential election, no one else our age would have even cared.

I walked over to her, and she smiled at me warmly.