There it was, a sheet of notebook paper, worn from age and use. I picked it up, not knowing why. But I found that this paper held the secrets of a boy I never knew, secrets so heartbreaking that they haunt me every day.

“‘It’s there, why not use it?’

‘It’s natural, so it can’t be bad’

‘Nothing wrong with trying a little.’

The wrong friends would say these things to me, pressuring me to try it

Temptation gets the best of me.”

On the page, a poem, written by a boy I never knew. I continued reading, not knowing why. The words of this boy’s story, holding so many secrets of this boy I never knew, secrets so heartbreaking that they haunt me every day

“It makes me feel so cool

Flying high during the day

It makes me feel so cool

Skipping class with my friends,

Drinking and smoking behind a church.”

Those words, written by this boy I never knew, yet somehow I knew his story. I knew him from reading. I don’t know how. I knew so much about his struggles, his reasons, his secrets that haunt me every day.

He loved that buzz, that rush,

That feeling of floating on a cloud,

That smell, that taste, that touch.

Loved the way it took his problems away;

He inhaled the smoke, exhaled everything that was bothering him-

His grades, his parents, names he gets called, fights with his girlfriend-

Until there was nothing left

“I never thought I could be an addict…

I’m not doing anything wrong,

‘My antidepressants stop working at six’, I tell them.

I try to give my girlfriend all my problems,

Maybe if she saw how messed up I am, she would see it’s okay

I know it’s okay myself.”

I kept following his story, becoming more familiar with this boy I’ve never met. I knew his story, I knew him. His story, his secrets, they haunt me as they continued to get worse.

He didn’t realize what he was doing to himself

His grades were slipping,

He was always stumbling around, drunk and high,

Not a care in the world,

Then one night he came home and his mom caught him.

“My parents locked me up

Only allowing me to go to school

They tried to help me, tried to stop my disease

But I’m too far-gone,

To ever come back.”

This boy I never met became a part of me, his stories were a part of my own. I felt a connection to him I just couldn’t understand, and I couldn’t will myself to let him go.

He tried to blame his addiction on those wrong friends

Saying it was their fault for making him start

Always pointing the finger at them,

Never at himself

Yet he continued to hang out with those wrong friends

“I love that buzz, that rush,

That feeling of floating on a cloud,

That smell, that taste, that touch

Love the way it takes my problems away:

I inhaled the smoke, exhaled everything that bothered me-

My grades, my parents, names I get called, fights with my girlfriend-

Until there was nothing left.”

It’s been a few weeks since I found that sheet of paper, since I learned the story of this boy I never met. I didn’t get to find out the ending of this boy’s story, almost as if a page was missing. I walk around, every day, stuck in thought of this boy. I have to know who he is, have to know more.

But who could he be? I search the faces of everyone around me, looking for him. But he could be anyone. The boy I never knew, walking around. So close, yet so far away. Just words on a page that I’ll never match to a face.
But his story is a part of me now, one I’ll never forget. It haunts me, drives me, and I know the right path.