In the Rain

April 26th. .Rain.

We hugged under your umbrella. We kissed goodbye in the rain. You ran after me to shelter me from the depression of the skies.

Every time raindrops fell, it was cold. Windy brisk. But all these beautiful and sentimental moments can make black ice melt in my heart. Melt...and drip down deep. I don't know why Johnny started walking me home even in the rain. He would usually walk with me in the bright and mighty sunlight, or as the sun was setting with the clouds. Even when it was pouring one day, he walked with me. Even when it was cold, he walked with me. It was the same road. It was all the same. The reason why he's doing this isn't falling on me. But maybe he's finally learning to give more than take...to hold rather to be held.

The fall of raindrops. The shards of God's tears. The expression of the skies's sadness. It's all so beautiful. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter...through the glassed windows. The freshness as the sun shines once more, past the tears on the floor, giving reflections of many colors, and an organic welcome from mother nature.

The sky is a symbolism of my emotions lately. Although I smile my usual bright smile, it's getting hard. I don't know what I'm going to do. Victor, Jordan, and many others are starting to do drugs, and drink excessively. Joanna has probably cried as much as the sky has these past days. She's still missing. I still don't see her. I still don't know what I can do for any one of them. Just sit. And watch. Nothing I say, or do, will wake them up. They may never wake up, and only go deeper, and deeper until they can't even find themselves anymore.

Friends are supposed to help. But I don't know how. I talked. I thought. I wondered. And nothing is working. I don't know how effective my letter to Joanna was. I don't know if me begging Victor helped him really think about his actions. It really seems like it hurts me more than it hurts himself. I just want him to love himself, and care for himself. He is changing more and more week by week. And I just don't know what is going on with Joanna anymore. She seems fine...but there is still a couple of missing pieces that I can't find. She's still hiding a part of her away from us.

I just love each and every one of them so much. I want them to be healthy, and I want them to continue to smile like I've always seen them. But what if they don't want to...what can I do when that happens? I know that I shouldn't care after I try because it's their choice, and it's their life. But I'm part of their life, even if it's the smallest slither on a pie chart. I want to make a difference. I want to make their life brighter. But so far, all I feel like I did was sit, and watch the daily news of what new trouble Victor is getting into. I don't want to be an idiot, and smile all by myself at school.

The clock has hit 3:11. I walk quickly to the lockers. And there they are. As always. Laughter, and grins were all there were. Victor would crack a pervy joke. And we would all laugh until our stomachs hurt. Joanna would laugh the loudest. Jenny would be putting her books away from a tired day but have her grin on the side. Minmin would talk and talk and talk, and make a fool of himself. It was only a small portion of us after school, but the quantity doesn't matter. It's the amount of happiness I feel from that group, even if it's just for 10 minutes everyday. The happiness is felt from one person to another. I know that this is what I live for. This is what I belong to. And this is proof to show that my friends are my source of warmth, and comfort. They are my silent healers...deep within their shadows, and beyond their own reflections. They don't need to target the source of my pain or wound, they just need to act like themselves...because that's all I need...for them to stay themselves.

It's all worth it, to go through an exhausting day, to just be able to set loose for awhile and be with the people I love most.

I just wonder if another day like this will come my way soon...

My Supporter, Encourager, Believer in Me

April 16th. .Sunny and Warm.

I thought I didn't have any specific talents. I thought that God forgot to give me a slip of his magic touch before I was given to my mother. Nothing I had a talent for was naturally there. Practice was done, time and money were spent. But finally, I've found what I'm naturally born with, something that was priceless and just came to me with no demand, no force. God actually didn't forget about me. He implanted my talents deep inside me already. And this year was the time I was supposed to find it.

Ms. DC was my supporter, my encourager, my believer. If she wasn't there, I would have no idea that God has given me this special talent. She sat there, and listened. Although it seems like the most simple thing anyone can do, I've never met a teacher that would do that for me. I can't believe that she actually understands me, how I think, and appreciate who I am as just a simple human being. Unlike many other teachers, that just sees a student as a student, it seems like she treats me like another fellow writer and friend. She always believed in me and lets me write what I wanted to, because she knows '[she]'ll love it'. Her suggestions brightened my writing skills and ideas. Her words made my mind tilt in a different angle. I've learned so much from her. She taught me about being an even better writer, and a better person in life. No adult figure spent time to listen to my thoughts and my creativity, so meeting her was my relief. It reminded me that my thoughts aren't like many other girls at my age and that was ok.

And when it's time to say goodbye in June, I don't think I would be able to bring myself to. I don't know if there are anyone else out there that will notice my special touch. Some may dislike it, some may not recognize it. I break traditional writing rules. It's who I am as a writer. I purposely write sentence fragments. I know that trees can't hold, and time can't run. But I write what I feel and what I see. And that's what I see. That's what I hear. That's what I smell. It's what I feel. I write as honest, as pure and simple as I can. Complicated words are not what I am aiming for. And to just know that even one professional recognizes it, makes my whole mind hesitate, and shake back and forth. Back and forth.

Thank you so much Ms. DC. Every compliment, every suggestion, every comment has helped shape and inspire me as a writer. You were the one that found my talent before I did. You were also one of the only adults that can sit, listen, and understand me. Thank you for being such a big supporter of my work. I really wish you can continue to guide me, and teach me all you know, because there is still so much that I don't know, so much that i don't recognize and see. Having your admiration and attention is such an honor and gift. Continue to inspire young adults, and work in the world of literacy and art.

-Tiffany Sit

A Line is to Separate

April 6th .Dark.

On Sunday, Chris held a birthday party at his house. It was the same place, and we did the same things. But it just didn't feel like the other time we celebrated in grade 9. Last year, it was filled with happiness, laughter, and warmth.Out of the three, only two were present this year. Warmth was absent.Braden was singing ridiculously, Joanna was laughing hysterically...it's all transparent and memorized. If only I can grasp it one more time tightly in my hands, and hear the laughter and happiness that sprung once again. But nothing is held, nothing is heard. This time, it felt hollow from life. People that I didn't really know well were there, and there was no sense of loose comfort. I was silent most of the time, and occasionally laughing at Braden, Victor, and Jordan. All I was thinking about was the last time we celebrated Chris's party and how different it was. I want to go back to grade 9 one last time. For one day.

Sylvanna was also there that day. And that was an additional reason to why I felt uncomfortable. I just don't get it sometimes. I don't know and I don't understand. I've sat down, settled my mind, and concentrated...but nothing came. I still don't understand why Sylvanna still hates me and why she even started to. We were such good friends...and it just disappeared. She started ignoring me and Jane as she started hanging out with the asian crew. She shut us out. I said nothing, and continued on. It was not the first time i was thrown out, and unneeded. But it doesn't mean that the number of times reduces the amount of pain I felt. It always felt the same.

Just like everyone else, I want to feel loved and cared about. In a way, I think it's also about me being spoiled most of the time. At school, I'm always surrounded by people that like me and care for me. And once I meet or see someone that feel different, I get upset. I try so hard to be able to be friends with everyone I know. I try to talk and spend time with them as much I can. I also give them compassion and care. But there still has to be people that don't like me for who I am. And I just want to know what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it and earn redemption.

It hurts. Stamping hatred onto someone for no valid reason. All people can say to me is to just, "Ignore it." or "You'll get over it." I can't. I feel like I'm being picked on. I feel like I'm trapped, having no where else to turn and no where else to run. It's unfair. And even if I did do something wrong, they can't give me a second chance? I don't bite. I don't yell. I don't kill. I'm nothing more than a human being. And in a world filled with humans, we all learn to compromise, forgive, and negotiate.

I've let go of almost all of the hardships and experiences I have went through in grade 8. And I've learned to let go, even though it was the hardest obstacle to crawl through. I've grown. Why can't they just let me go and set me free...

No matter what happens, there will always be a solid line that borders our worlds. Mine. And theirs. I believe in one. They believe in two. I choose right. They choose left. It's inevitable. But I just wish that one day, the border decomposes to just a thin line. It may be bold, dotted, solid, light, or invisible. Just not a line that has hatred and despise injected deep within.