Why

It never occurred to me how much hatred there is in this world until now, as I’m lying on this couch, thinking about what is going to happen in the future. It’s like a person finding out that they obtained an incurable disease; very little can be done about it, other than waiting for everything inside them to burst into shreds. I’m not saying I’m suicidal or any such thing, but what is special about living on this earth anyways? You live, you go through good times, those good times end up being terrible times, and then you die. I don’t want to die, but I do want all of this misery to come to an end.
What happened wasn’t too complicated. It just seemed like another average day of being me, Jason Peterson, or did it? In fact, what is a normal day? Every day is different; new laughs, new tears, new birth, new death. How is it fair to say it was a normal day, when in reality, every day is different to different people? I guess it doesn’t matter what a day truly is. At that point it was another average day, waking up at 7:10, getting ready for school, and starting up my Chevy Tahoe to go pick up my girlfriend, Amber. At 7:30, she plops herself in the front seat, chucks her pink backpack in the back seat, unaware that I have an English project laid on the whole back seat that cannot be damaged, and then it starts getting strange.
She asked me all of these questions, “Have you applied for any colleges yet? The last day of senior year is a quick 77 days away. Where do you think you want to go? Are you going to go where your sister, Jessica, is currently attending? That is a great college that I know you could get in, and then become very successful. How is she doing; does she like it there? What do you think you are going to do after you get done with college?”
She was asking me questions like she was forced to talk to me, but didn’t want to, and babbled out words only to fill dead air. The odd thing was she didn’t let me answer any of the questions in the ten minute car ride from her house to the school. She sounded extremely scared, like somebody was forcing her to ask the questions, and if she didn’t, something awful would happen. I stopped listening after a while, because it seemed nothing she was talking about was too important. The questions she sputtered out never ended until we saw the school in the distance, then she turned silent.
All of first block English class, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why was she asking those questions? When I texted her last night she acted the way she usually does, happy. Was she mad at me? I did horrible on my project about the book To Kill a Mockingbird, because I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I stuttered the entire presentation, forgot to talk about the court scene of the story, and said Amber instead of Atticus at least twenty times. I didn’t care at all; I wanted to know what was going on. I made it my goal to try and find out at lunch.
Second and third block are a blur to me, but I remember that it dragged on, and the whole time I thought about what to say to Amber. After what seemed one million hours later, it was finally time for lunch. I rushed over to Amber and gave her a big hug. She stiffened up, which I took as she wanted to be let go. We usually have four other people that sit with us at lunch, but I asked Amber if we could be alone. She agreed to it, and we went to the commons and leaned up against the locker banks to be away from everyone else.
I started with, “What is going on? You were acting very strange this morning in the car. Has something been bothering you?”
She sat with her knees tucked up to her chest, staring at her peanut butter and banana sandwich that she was clenching in her hands. This was normal for when something was bothering her, and letting her process what she wanted to say for as long as she needed. She stayed in that same position from the time I asked the question to the time lunch was finished. I got nothing out of her, which meant whatever was going on was extremely serious. I was going to find out no matter what I had to do.
After school I offered to take Amber home, and she stared down at her toes and nodded as in saying yes. We were in the car for maybe around two minutes, when Amber burst into a puddle of tears. I panicked; I had never seen her cry in the two years we had been dating. I knew a park where we would be alone and I thought that would be the perfect spot to talk about what was going on. I turned right at the intersection when I would have needed to turn left to travel to her house, and Amber became furious.
“What on earth are you doing Jason? Drive me home!” She screamed and started to sob again.
“I need to find out why you are acting this way. I care about you a lot and I want to make sure you are safe and happy.”
It took her a while to process what she needed to say. As I was texting my mom saying I was busy doing schoolwork and I would be late home, she started to talk.
“My parents are getting a divorce! They didn’t even talk to me about it until last night, and they have been talking about it for months now! How couldn’t I have known! Why didn’t I figure it out; the signs were right in front of me! I knew I wasn’t cared about in my house, but I really hit me when they said neither of them wanted me to live with them! They want me to just to live out on the streets! To be honest, I would rather be homeless, than to have to deal with living with someone who doesn’t want anything to do with me. You are the only person I’ve got now, and it seems like we’ve been drifting away from each other! I’m worried that if you go to college somewhere far away, you’ll never want to see me again! I really just want to go…”
She stopped talking right then and there. I was in shock. Her parents seemed like such nice people that loved each other and loved her. Why would she have held all of this pain back until now? I wanted to question her, but asking her questions would make even more upset, which was the opposite of what I wanted. I wish I did though, because that was the last I would hear out of her in a long time.
“Is it ok if I take you to my cabin? It’s only about twenty minutes away?” I asked her, but she never responded. I took it as a yes, and started to drive in the direction of my cabin.
I should have token her there earlier. It’s the perfect spot just to sit and relax and ignore the problems that surround our lives. Going there had always been like escaping reality.
We drove up to the cabin and Amber sprung out right as I stopped the Tahoe. She ran through the doors, and threw herself onto the couch. I received a look from her that she wanted to be alone, and because I respect her, I went into the nearest bedroom and thought. I figured she would only need a few minutes to think things through, and then we could sort out the problems. I was wrong.
It has now been twelve hours since we’ve got to the cabin, and nothing has been said from either of us. At first she wouldn’t let me even sit next to her, but as time went on, I fought against her and she at least let me sit on the opposite side of the couch. I crept over to her until I was sitting right next to her, which she didn’t seem to mind. I feel like both of us became mute; neither of us wanted to or could say anything.
For me it’s peaceful, but I’m not sure if it is for her. I love having time just to think, and right now I need to. What is going to happen to her? Will she still be with me? Why do people hate other people? That may seem like a question that has nothing to do with what is going on, but would any of this be happening if people didn’t hate people? Amber’s parents wouldn’t be getting a divorce; her parents would still want her to live with them, and she would have more friends other than me that she could talk to. Why does this world have to be so evil?
I couldn’t do anything about this world having hatred, but I can do something about Amber having a good life. I care about my family, but I care about Amber more. Maybe I’m being stupid, but I know I place where we could run away together and both of us would have a great life. We will graduate high school, and then right after we would go start our new life together. For now she could live with me; I could explain to my parents what happened. I know they’ll understand. It will all work out. Or will it?