I still don't know how to create a thread. it says I need 20 posts so I guess i'll just put whatever story i'm working on here.
“I’m a trump supporter.”
“kill yourself Jacob,”
“better than Hillary.”
“Kill yourself Carter.”
“I’d take anyone over Hillary, even if it has to be Trump.”
“Why because of the emails, that’s the dumbest shit I have ever heard.”
“shut up you fucking commie,”
“better than being a racist, Jacob. You know what, fuck you, I can’t listen to this shit.”
“Sophia calm down, it’s not like we’re even old enough to vote.”
“I don’t care, you call me a fucking commie, but the term you’re actually looking for is ‘a person with morals,’ I’m out of here.” I threw my half full bag of doritos at Jacob then got in my car and left. I didn’t care that I was fucking up my friendships over politics, I couldn’t stand listening to Jacobs voice any longer. Last year he practically bullied me for supporting Bernie. Now that he wants Trump to run this country, I can’t take it. It’s not right. I hate talking about politics because it gets me so worked up, it makes me throw away friends that I used to care deeply for.
Glory days came on the radio. I couldn’t tell if it was the world teasing me or my inability to stop thinking about Trump, but it was as if “Make America Great Again” was following me everywhere. Glory days, yearning for the past when we were even more racist and homophobic than we are now. From his signs by the side of the road, to the hill billy with the big American flag hanging out of his truck, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I decided to drive over to my friend Benny’s house, he felt the same way as me about almost everything.
Once I got there, I knocked on his door and thankfully he, instead of one of his parents, answered.
“You got any weed?”
“Of course but keep your fucking voice down, my mom’s right over there in the kitchen.”
“Let’s go to the park.”
“Alright let me grab my coat.”
When we arrived at the park I felt warm in my big army jacket, and my wool lined leggings. Benny had a big coat that I couldn’t tell was just really thick, or packed with a shit ton of weed. We sat in silence for a while, letting the high set in.
“Why are you crying?”
“What?” I didn’t realize but there were tears running down my face, “oh, I don’t know. That’s weird, I haven’t been able to cry in like a year.”
“Seriously? I cry every week, man.”
“How? What about?”
“Depression shit.” He didn’t have to explain it any further, we had a mutual understanding of what that meant to both of us.
“I don’t cry because of depression, I just let it fester inside me and gnaw away at my insides,” I couldn’t help but laugh. After my chuckle died out I paused and felt the severity of the situation come back to me, “it’s like I’m hollow.”
“Have you always felt so empty?”
“I can’t tell, I can’t remember any other feeling than this.” My crying stopped, back to normal.
“You stopped crying.” He turned and looked at me with his big full eyes, it was like I could see all the emotion in them that poured out so often. I couldn’t help but be jealous.
“I know.” I closed my eyes and sighed.
“Oh yeah, why’d you start crying in the first place?”
“Something happened with Jacob today, it feels like the beginning of the end,” I chuckled then added “kind of like trump being elected.”
“Shit if he’s elected, I’m gonna blow my brains out.”
“Jacob came out today as a supporter.”
“Carter supported Jacobs supporting.”
“fuck them both.”
“I think I’m gonna get squeezed out of the group.”
“Because you don’t support trump?”
“No, because I can’t stay in a group that does.”
“Guess you’re out of the gang.” I knew he was joking but there was still a ring of truth to what he said.
“There’s still another year of high school after this. I can’t do it.”
“Don’t say that, it’s the hardest school in the state and you’ve managed to get nothing but A’s.”
“It’s breaking me. The A’s mean nothing, I’m still failing.”
“I don’t get that.”
“You don’t have to. Just listen.”
“Even when you’re out of the gang,” he paused and we filled the silence with soft laughter, as if us being too loud would disturb something between us, “I’ll still listen.”
“You’re crying again.”
“This time for a different reason.”
“Good. Now listen to me. No matter what happens, even if the rest of the group becomes Trump supporters,” he paused again, this time we let the silence go by without laughter, “I’ll always support you.”
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