The Boy With the Dead Eyes, Part Two
Chapter one: Your Past Never Leaves You
It's been ten years since Dylan was killed publicly. That was one of the toughest moments of my life. I knew he had problems, I knew that all the bullying and abuse was becoming to much for him. But all I did was reassure him that it was going to be okay. I just wish I could have been there for him. It was hard to live life, I felt as if I was carrying 1,500 pounds worth of guilt on my back. I felt as if, I was in a pit of quick sand and I just kept falling deeper and deeper. I wasn't the only person who was experiencing this feeling. Skylar Francois was going through hell. The only way I would know this is because we spent so many nights together. Just crying and breaking down together. I thought I had it bad, but then I'd hear her story, and see her once light brown eyes, that seemed to carry hope and light, were now dark brown like a melted chocolate bar. They were always red and puffy, you could tell she had been crying for hours each day. She was falling apart more with every second that passed by. I didn't blame her, the man she loved called her a coward right before he was dragged away. She couldn't forget it. Even if she tried she couldn't. I read her story about Dylan, every last word she wrote was true. She didn't let her love for him, stop her from telling he truth. We all have our own individual demons. Dylan had to deal with his dissociative identity disorder. I had to deal with my anger issues. But Skylar had to deal with her hyperthymestic syndrome. Her syndrome caused her to remember everything against her own free will. But throughout all the pain and hardships we both went through. Having to fight our own demons and deal with the loss of our good friend. We found each other. It was like we were drawn to each other. Those nights that we spent crying together, I believed is what brought us closer. It was as if the tears we shed came together and formed a bond so tight that no one could break. We were both paralyzed by his death and our own sadness. We were caught in a world that was filled with a thick black fog. We both needed a light to guide us and show us a new world. For me, she was my light. I thought that I was hers. But I was wrong. What I thought was love was just a barrier.