Catharsis

This is not a story, nor an essay. And obviously it isn’t poetry either. I reckon its more like a diary entry? I’m not sure. Whatever it is, it is important enough for me to want to shout it out to the world.

There’s this boy in our class whom everyone treats as the class clown. I suppose he likes it, because most of the time he plays along. Its rather amazing how thick skinned he is, because I’m not sure I’d have been able to handle that many jabs if I were him.

Then a few days ago, he told me he was feeling down in the dumps. He felt like there wasn’t any point in working hard because he never seemed to get the results he’d wanted.

Hearing him say that made me feel shitty, because more than once I’d been an accomplice to his ‘class-idiot’ act. Even more, I didn’t know what I could do to help. I told him the usual stuff- Everyone feels this way and Just don’t think about it and Go do the stuff you like instead of moping around. Those words sounded hollow even to my ears.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I know I’d wished for someone to do more than just give me ‘words of wisdom’ when I was feeling sad and depressed. I’d fantasized about a prince (or a queen- I’m not picky) swooping down on a unicorn to save me, but then reality hit me really hard across the face and I grudgingly picked up the pieces by myself.

I knew I was no prince, but I wanted to do something special. The guy liked detective stories and solving puzzles so I figured, hey! Why not a treasure hunt? 

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