A story I wrote for school that actually made my english teacher cry. This is based off of a friend of mine’s life, names were changed, but it’s a true story..
When they got to school they met up with their friends Jesus and Carlos, who were cousins. They both came from thriving families, neither of which lived in the slums Paco and Jorge had learned to endure and navigate daily. After school Paco approached Jesus and asked him where Jorge had gone, “He wanted to be alone,” Jesus said, “I heard he dropped out of school; that kid isn’t the same these days.” Paco set for home at a steady pace. After not seeing Jorge all the way home, making sure to avoid the gang, he worried, but just went home, assuming his friend must be fine. After a long day he went straight to sleep, only to be awoken by the phone at 1:00 AM. The woman informed him that Jorge’s mother passed away.
Paco hurried over to his friend’s house, only to find it surrounded by the police. He asked one of them what was going on, only to find out that Jorge had finally snapped and was holding a gun to his head. Paco finally convinced them to let him in, to talk to his friend. As he entered the room where Jorge sat, he noticed the glassy, dull eyes of his young friend who had endured the beatings of someone who had lived two hundred years. It was also impossible not to notice the magnum he was so obviously forcing into his temple. “Hey,” he finally said, trying to sound brave.
“I’m getting evicted Paco, my mom is dead, I can’t go back to school, I have no money,” Jorge uttered dully.
“You can always come live with me for as long as you want, you’re my best friend, that’s what best friends do.”
“I’m in debt sixty-four grand Paco. By the time I moved in with you, they would be hauling me off to jail.”
“I can help you raise money! We can both get jobs, and maybe if you are working, the bank will at least know you are trying to make money, and cut you some slack!”
“No,” Jorge replied harshly.
“We’ll find a way Jorge, just put the gun down,” Jorge made no inclination to putting the gun down; instead he slid his index finger to the trigger.
“Goodbye Paco, you have been a good friend,” Jorge choked out.
“No!” There was a faint click, a flash, and a sound so unutterable, it could not be described.
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