Ryan and Jim

Journal Entry Preface - January 29

He’s a part of me, and I’m a part of him. Yet, I cannot shake the idea that I want one to live and one to die. Dare I confront him? Every day I hate him more, but I want him more. He makes me do things. You can’t even begin to understand. Doctors can’t cure this. Even in my strongest

moments, I know I will let him in eventually. He is everywhere. Yes, I am weak. Do your worst! Eat my body, but please don’t take my soul. HYDE.

Journal Entry One - January 30

These bedroom walls are my sanctuary. Each wall tells a story - On the left side of the room, the White Sox pennants my dad bought me years ago hang haphazardly, and the wall behind this bed showcases my band posters: the Beatles, Floyd, Stones - groups my friend Garret got me into freshman year. The posters are still here, but Garret had to move to Atlanta. Then there’s the window with the old oak outside where I watch season after season pass, where the cold wind blows through the bare trees, I can almost smell it. The full-length mirror mockingly stares at a boy spread out on his bed trying so hard to be a man. Be a man, Ryan. Tomorrow is Friday, and everyone from school will be going out somewhere, but where will I be? Right back here is where. Right back here.

Journal Entry Two - January 31

I got a C on my math test. Big surprise there. I hate math. I can get A’s in all my other courses with ease, but when it comes to geometry, I’m average at best. I was never just average at school. I used to write “‘B’ for bad” on quiz scores as a kid, for God’s sake. Well, I crumpled up that sorry excuse for a geo test and threw it in the trash. Then I threw on my earbuds and let the

Doors take me away to “Riders on the Storm.” I let Jim Morrison take me through the dingy school hallways in a pleasant daze as I listened to the sound of thunder crashing and raindrops on

the track zone me out to the surrounding white noise of high schoolers. I felt light as a feather. No one could touch me. No one could stop my happiness. I wasn’t in high school anymore as long as I had those earbuds in. I was in the desert, watching a storm that smelled like dust. The C math test was a distant memory. I was where I wanted to be.

Journal Entry Three - February 1

I don’t know how to talk to Tina. She’s beautiful and smart, and she does this cute thing where she throws her long caramel hair back when she asks a question. She found me staring at her like some creep today and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Real good, Ryan, real good. Jim wouldn’t have done that. Why couldn’t you come out then, Jim? Why couldn’t you have been all “Riders on the Storm” and played it cool? What do I even say to her? Hi? Then what? I like how you flip your hair when you ask a question? She’ll think I’m a double creep. Anyway, she’s popular. One of the football players probably will scoop her up soon.

Journal Entry Four - February 4

Jim told me to stop in 7-11 today for a Red Bull before school. I had never had one before, but there was something about that “Red Bull Gives You Wings” commercial I watched last night that made me think I could use a little extra something in my life. And it did give me that extra something. I felt loose as I moved from class to class, more confident. When I got to seventh-period history with Tina, I even talked to her for the first time. “You look pretty today.” That was a good one. She even smiled! For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel

like a creep. As long as I kept that Red Bull planted on my desk, I was a whole new me. I like the new me.

Journal Entry Five - February 7

I’ve started drinking two cans of Red Bull a day - one in the morning and then another when the first starts to wear off in the afternoon. I cracked a joke in history today that Tina and the rest of the class laughed at - “So, wait a minute, you mean to tell me that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles also were Renaissance artists?” Good one. Jim invited me over to meet some of my history classmates at lunch. Jim said it was time we stopped sitting alone at the loser table. They patted me on the back and told me they loved the Ninja Turtles joke. They said I should sit with them tomorrow too. This is shaping up to be the best week of my high school life.

Journal Entry Six - February 11

I’m going to do it. I’m going to ask Tina out on a date this week. I know it’s Valentine’s Week and all, but who cares? What’s it matter? She likes me anyway. Who wouldn’t? As long as I have my Red Bull, I’ll be okay. I’m going to do it. Tomorrow.        

Journal Entry Seven - February 12

So, she wasn’t in school today. That kind of put a damper on my plans. I didn’t even hear what Mr. Turner was talking about in history, and I didn’t care. I just kept staring at her empty chair. People probably saw me stare, but I don’t care. I sure hope that she’s there tomorrow. The guys

noticed I wasn’t my usual jolly self at lunch, but I didn’t feel like talking. And it was cool that they respected that. I just sat and ate my PB and J and drank my Red Bull, but I didn’t feel like I had wings today. I didn’t feel it without Tina there.

Journal Entry Eight - February 13

She wasn’t there again. I sure hope that she’s okay. Do I dare ask her out tomorrow, on Valentine’s Day? Will that seem desperate or corny or romantic? Who knows? I guess I had homework to turn in today, but I didn’t hear Mr. Turner when he assigned it. Oh well. There’s always tomorrow.

Journal Entry Nine - February 14

I did it. I asked her out. It was like something out of a movie. “I know it’s Valentine’s Day, but I want to go out with you...tonight. Will you be my Valentine?” And she said yes! She actually

said yes! It’s hard to write here on this dingy, deafening bus, but I’m not going to be doing much writing later when we’re at the movies. I wish I could freeze-frame that award-winning smile as she said yes, and I can’t wait until we head out to the mall. I don’t even care what we see, as long as I get to see her. But what if it doesn’t go so well? How awkward would that be? And then

what about school? No. I can’t let my thoughts betray me. This is going to be good. Better than good. It’s going to be great. You’re going to be great.                                                       

Journal Entry Ten - February 14 (Continued)

That date was amazing! She loved the movie, loved our walk afterward, and seemed to love talking to me. Didn’t she? Oh, she did. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. I love how she smiled at every little thing I said as if whatever it was I had to say was the most important thing in the world. I’ve never felt that way before. And the way that she laughs so lighthearted whenever I tell one of my corny jokes! Loved it. The only thing I wish I could have done was kiss her at the end of the night. So why didn’t I kiss her? What was I waiting for? I knew I wanted to. I’m sure she wanted me to. Stupid, stupid, stupid! And then my dad rolls up, saying, “Ryan, are you guys ready to go?” How embarrassing. Then I just stared out the window most of the time while my dad made awkward conversation the whole ride home, talking about fishing and accounting. When my dad dropped her off, I said thanks, and she smiled. So that’s good, right? That’s good? Then she bolted to her front door with her long, wavy brown hair swinging behind. What a great date. I hope this isn’t the last one.

Journal Entry Eleven - February 15

At school today, she gave me a weak smile when I said hi, and I asked if she wanted to walk in the hall together. I asked her how she liked the date, and she said it was “Just fine, but I’m in a

hurry and have to get to class. You understand, right?” Then I watched her dart down the dark hallway with her brown hair swaying once again. As I turned to enter my math class, I noticed her around the corner, giggling with her friends Stacy and Sarah.                                                   

Journal Entry Twelve - February 18

I hadn’t heard from Tina all weekend. I called her several times and only got voicemail. She skipped out after class today before I could speak with her. She sped out of class like a track star, and by the time I reached the hall, she was gone. I looked left and right and saw no sight of her. I thought our date went well, but now I’m not too sure.

Journal Entry Thirteen - February 19

I skipped class and stood outside waiting for her. There was no way I was going to miss her today. High on three Red Bulls, Jim gave me the strength to say what I needed to say. When the bell rang and she left the classroom, I grabbed her by the arm, and she gasped. She tried to tug away, but I held on tighter. I just wanted a reason. Why did she ditch me like this? What was going on? She told me that she thought I first seemed like a nice guy, but then I came off as a kind of a creep, the way I kept staring at her in the theater and looking out the window in the car only to look back at her legs and cleavage. My jaw dropped, not realizing what I had done. Did I really do that? I couldn’t have. She got it all wrong! She didn’t know what she was talking about. She didn’t know. She tugged free, but I chased after her, and that’s when security stopped me and

placed me in the suspension room here—what a day. My heart is racing. Give me some way out of this, Jim. Help me, Jim. Help me, Jim. Help me.               

__________________________________________________________________________

                                                              The last entry

This will be the last journal you’ll ever see. You failed me, Ryan. You failed yourself.                      

Dear Ryan,

You’ve been tolerable to have around for a while but think of this as a parting of ways, as a breakup if you will. You didn’t let me out when you were on that date, and that was a mistake, Ryan. All you had to do was let her see a little bit of Jim, and that’s what landed you in suspension here when we could be with her. Consider this your last journal entry, pal. From now on, I’m calling the shots.

“Say your goodbyes, kid.”

“No.”

“Say them!”

“No. No. No!”

____________________________________________________________________________

That’s when I, Ryan Hartmon, jumped from my seat, sprinted past the in-school suspension instructor, and burst through the door as if the fire alarm rang. I brushed past a dean, a security officer, dodged several students, nearly hit a row of lockers, and tripped my way up the stairs. I knew where I was going, the always empty and open computer room C204. The dean and several security officers chased me as if I were the only kid in school. It didn’t matter. They couldn’t catch a kid hopped up on three Red Bulls. Past the A and B wings, I flew, and by the time I got to C wing and into C204, I was in the clear. I locked the classroom door from the inside and turned my attention toward the window. I breathed uncontrollably. Outside, a few students were walking, and the world went on as usual. After a few moments of hesitation, I made my way to the windows, cranked one open, and began to climb out. A stocky security guard stared through

the glass and banged on the door as his sweaty hand fumbled with his keys. “Open up! Open up!” he cried. I gulped and yelled back, “I’m sorry! You’re too late! I must kill him! Don’t you see? Jim has to die!” I stood up on a shelf, pushed open a window, and looked down. Harsh concrete hit my gaze. Just as I put my foot through that window, he stormed into that room, grabbed my leg, and pulled me in. “Are you crazy?!” he yelled. I remember just nodding and smiling. Nodding and smiling.

New Journal Entry

My doctor said it would do me good to start a new journal. I’m not sure when they will let me leave this hospital hellhole. I couldn’t sleep last night because some guy kept yelling for water in the hallway. I’m not crazy. I’m not. When they opened my locker looking for drugs, they said that all they found were stacks of Red Bull and a sign that read, “Jim was here.” But I mustn’t say his name anymore. I mustn’t. I mustn’t. I…it’s okay, go ahead. Say it. Say it, Ryan.