Biographical Non-Fiction posted January 21, 2018

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A 1969 True Story

Just Another Teenage Tragedy

by krys123

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My typewriting teacher called me a prodigy; however, my English teacher called me a challengeable weed. For what people failed to call me was an emotionally unraveled teenager with feelings about to burst open like a Fourth of July celebration. But on the outside I was very reserved, not as most other students in high school, but I was little bit of a loner to boot.

There were some student friends who called me a hippie because when I used to go to the lake and beach I would have to carry a syringe filled with anti-bee serum because I was allergic to bee stings.

Ron and I were seniors, and we shared the same locker. After time, we became very close friends, even though I had only known him for four months. There were times he became a close confidant.

His side of the locker was very clean but sparse.  His manner of dress never changed. He wore jeans or khakis with a T-shirt or dress shirt, and in winter he wore a coat. There are many days he’d wear the same clothes to school and they were always fresh and clean, but just the same. Somedays, this would go on for two days and, occasionally, three.

After a few months, I became worried for Ron as I noticed his bare upper arms,  while in gym class, were noticeably bruised. I confronted him, comfortingly, and he just mentioned that he was just fooling around with his younger brother. They must have been fooling around for weeks, and both day and night.

He was smarter than anyone I knew. I never saw him study, and he still got good grades. We never studied together, but we did hang out on the third-floor exterior landing. There we would overlook the grounds and watch everybody and discuss life. But he never discussed his family life except for his younger brother.

One day, I saw a child's miniature baseball bat in the locker and thought nothing of it at the time. But then, later, I matched it to the welts on his arms, and they pretty much looked the same.

One morning, I went to school early, around seven in the morning, and proceeded to my locker. I opened it up for my books, and I saw that the locker was nearly empty with just my books and items. I didn’t notice anything of Ron’s, and didn’t think much of it at the time.

Later, I was pulled out of class and called to the principal’s office around two in the afternoon. I was notified by the principal, in so many words, that Ron had passed away.

I left the principal’s office to return to class and passed my locker. There were plain clothes detectives and a police officer at my locker. They asked me my name and address and they copied it down and said that I could go.

Later that night, on the '6 o’Clock News', there was a big headline and a video of a person who set himself ablaze, squatting near a gas station entrance.

Someone mentioned that his last words were something about a protest to the Vietnam War, but I had a very good hunch that it was his final escape from reality. He had been physically, morally and mentally beaten by his father. This was later proven in court, as there was an inquiry and investigation.

I'll never forget Ron and his quirky mannerisms and sometimes humorous satires. Maybe his life and spirits were never on a high note, but he always found time to lift my spirits.


True Story Contest contest entry


#15) The senior your book was dedicated to Ron and I will leave his last name anonymous with respect for his relatives.
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The class of '69 dedicated the year book in memory of Ron.
Thank you for reading
PS: May the Lord bless you Ron.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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