during my teens I had two special people that I trusted and was close to, my best friend Wanda and my cousin Patrick, we confided in each other and hung out together when ever we could.
Wanda was an only child from a rich family that bought her any and everything she wanted and even things she didn't, all she really wanted was love. ( attention). Her parents never seemed to have time for her, they would just hand her money, or buy her things like a new car or even a sailboat,which we would spend time on.
patrick was the middle child of five, he was also one that would be ignored or forgotten, he was a dreamer and found everything fasinating, he would tell me that there was music in every living thing , even a blade of grass. His family thought that there was something not quite right with him, I believed that he just looked at the world differently.
any ways, when we were together we talked about how things were in our families and how we would change what was. we talked about going away and starting our own community of "misfits". But, in the mean time we did volunteer work at the shelter, hospital, or just around the neighborhood. We wouldn't ask to get payed or anything , if someone offered we suggested that the person, or persons, would donate to places like the shelter or humane society ( for animals). We did any and everything we could to get away from our parents and tried to stay out of trouble. No one seemed to understand what we were trying to do, we would get laughed at by our peers, or chastised by our parents. we just couldn't get our point across.we even tried to start a band and wrote music ( thanks to Patrick's ability to hear music in so many things). I learned to write lyrics and played the folk quitar and drums. Wanda had a beautiful singing voice and (as far as I was concerned to sing like an angel).
Things started to get rough for us when we hit our mid to late teens, between our parents trying to make plans for us , concerning our future, which we weren't too keen on. our so called friends telling us that we should follow their examples, we were very confused and wanting to leave. we discussed going somewhere, any where but where we were. Wanda would get ahold of some "weed". Patrick, Wanda and myself would get together and go to our secret place, which was a tree house that we had built in the woods at the end of the block. we liked it there, it was secluded and beautiful. There was a little creek that ran down the middle and we would watch the fish and crawdads. we also would watch the wild rabbits and field mice run around and wish that we could be them. eventually we made a promise to each other that we would run away and find a place for us. I suggested that only one of us go and find this place and come back for the other two, it came down to me going. So I left.
I travelled ( hitch hiked) my way to California ( it took me about 6 mnths). I had several adventures, and some really scary things happened. when I got to Cal. , I called home. I was told that Patrick was looking for me. He was in some trouble with the law. He had been busted for possession and was given a choice of jail time or join the service. He didn't want either one. I said that I would come home. By the time I made it home, Patrick had committed suicide, his parents and siblings blamed me and I was banned from the funeral. I had lost track of Wanda for a short period, after a few mnths. she showed up at my house, she had sliced up her arms and was bleeding all over. My mother freaked, I grabbed Wanda and threw her in my dad's car and drove to the nearest hospital. I got in trouble for stealing the car and Wanda was put in the psych. ward. My parents grounded me and I was told that I wasn't to see or talk to Wanda again. I left home again and travelled around the States for quite awhile.
About five years later, I had recieved a call, it was Wanda, she had said that she was married and had a child, I wanted to get together with her and we made plans to meet the following day. the next day she called ,crying. something was wrong, I don't know what. i tried to get her to tell me, but, she hung up. I continued to call back, but, her phone was busy. I called her mother and explained how Wanda had called me and could she check on her and call me back. She did! Wanda had slashed her wrist, in her home, in front of her child, and had died before anyone could get to her. to this day no one knows why. I haven't been able to be that close to anyone since.