He doesn’t get to be anything else. No matter how much time passes, this boy’s story is finished. He doesn’t get to grow up. He doesn’t even get to go to high school.He didn’t get a chance to make a facebook. He’s trapped on myspace. He doesn’t move on. He’s done. 50 years from now, the story will be the same for him.
He’ll always fall to his death. There’s no revelation. He just stays a dead kid. Forever. I didn’t even know him that well. He was in my gym class and I think I spoke to him once. He made a mistake. And it can never be undone. He fell 30 feet to his death. Nothing can ever change that. No matter how far you go into the future, he’ll always be dead. It’s over for him. It’s been over five years since it ended for him. At fourteen years old, he’s finished with life.
I don’t know why my mind drifts to this stranger who I didn’t know from time to time. Maybe it’s because it bothers me. Middle school is the end. So much changes after middle school. He’ll never know. He’ll never make another friend. He’ll never have another opinion. He didn’t get to see the first black president elected. He didn’t get to suffer through the mundane classes that my high school had set for him. He’s stuck. There’s no moving forward. Just fourteen years. That’s no time at all. He had potential. He was somebody’s son. He was somebody’s friend. Gone. Forever. I didn’t know him and I never will. He doesn’t amount to anything now except a sad news story. All that’s left of him is a myspace, some memories that are fading away. Maybe there’s some pictures of him left. Maybe his clothes are still around. No mind. No body. No person.
Nothing more. Nothing else.