16 Held Such Better Days

Prologue-Adam's Letter and Song

To the man and woman who chose to conceive a child, the result of which was me, when it fit in with their five year plan;

To the teachers who never really cared, no matter what they say;

To my fellow geeks, dweebs, et. al., who will no doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have me to kick around;

To my fellow students who made my life a living nightmare when they should have focused on their education;

To those who never cared, never spoke, probably never knew my name;
To the one true friend, whose caring was the only thing that prevented this even from happening sooner;

To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces;

To all of you, goodbye.

I am leaving a world to which I never truly belonged or fit in. Do not weep for me, or mourn my passing. I say this not because I expect to be missed, but to allow those who truly did not care go on with their lives with a clean conscience and dry eyes. I know you don't want to weep for me. So don't. But I do ask you to listen to the final words of a young man who has taken charge of his own destiny.

Perhaps my parents might feel something inside which causes them to shed tears. They may pretend that it's sorrow for their "loss", but I hope it is something else. Perhaps sorrow for bringing a child into this world when they really didn't have the time or desire to raise him. I wasn't the product of love, born of a desire to prepare another human being to grow and lead the human race. I was merely the next acquisition, the next task, the next project on their list of things that bring significance.

No child should be brought into this world for the mere purpose of being just another possession. I am not an asset to be cataloged and listed on your tax forms beside your house and car, or fought over during your divorce proceedings. I am a human being. I'm sorry that it took this to make you realize that. If you don't yet get it, then I'm even sorrier.

What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal Chowning will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your administration worse. But I don't expect an apology for the false sympathies of people like Mrs. Dunfee, and the broken promises of others like Mr. Richman.

As for my fellows students, those who made a more significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to mourn.

But if I'm going to address those who belittled me, I'd be remiss if I failed to include the ladies in my life. I guess that's not entirely accurate, as the ones I refer to fall in two basic categories: those who refused to be in my life, and those who I would rather have excluded from my life. In the former category, Melinda Tunney, Jessica Silvers, and dear Kimmy Vanover, whose laughed in my face after I asked her to the homecoming dance, humiliating me in front of I don't know how many other classmates. In the latter category are too many to mention, though I must single out Rebecca Cull and Vanessa Dietrich for their tremendous dedication to the cause of destroying any shred of self-esteem I might dare to foster. Why can't you accept the things that make other people different rather than insisting everyone conforms to your will?

Sure, some did offer friendly gestures. Nicole Edwards often would greet me and ask about my life. Not that I ever felt comfortable enough to tell her anything; I never trusted her enough to give her the chance. What was the purpose? Did you really give a flip about the shy, quiet kid who sat behind you in 8th grade history? Or was it all about creating an illusion that you care, just to guarantee my voting for you as a class officer.