Today I woke up thinking that it would be
a normal day. My daily routine; get my uniform on, eat breakfast day, brush my
teeth and go to school. However At
school I had gotten an unexpected visitor. It was Francis Cassavant! Francis
Cassavant… The boy whom used to be my greatest friend who had become my
greatest disgust. I used to feel like a reckless car back in those days, always
changing direction, not following a smooth path. I went from a great life to a
dreadful one, all because of that boy. And after the “event” that occurred that
night I was in such a state of despair I would not allow anybody to help me. I
even rejected Francis causing him to join the army. The last I heard from him
was he got the Silver Star for covering a grenade to try and save his platoon. And
the last time I saw him was when I was yelling at him all the way from the
piazza to the ground for not being there for me… But I have moved on and have
grown stronger from my past and reside with my current life. When I first saw
him I was happy and sad that he was here. Happy because I hadn’t seen him in a
while and I wanted to make sure he was all right from the grenade but sad
because he betrayed me about not keeping his promise. It was hard to recognize
him with a scarf over his face. Most of his face was blown off, he has the
necessities like eyes nose and ears but there is dangling flesh on his face. I
knew that he had traveled from far distances to come and see me. He was in WWII
then Frenchtown and now here. The first thing I did was asking him about his
face, hopefully it wasn’t rude of me to do that. He answered by saying that it isn't as bad as it seems but I know it is bad. He got maimed from jumping on a
grenade and earning the Silver Star. He quickly changes the subject because he
didn’t want to talk about the grenade anymore. I had been planning to say sorry
for what I had did on the piazza but I never saw him again so I thought right
now would be good. He looked surprised when I said I was sorry. He thought that
it was his entire fault and I had the right to yell at him. He then brought up
the fact that Larry LaSalle is dead. I felt sad that he died even though what
happened. Larry always made me feel special, like a ballerina. He made every
one feel special at the Wreck Center. I asked Francis was he was going to do
now and he is not in the army. He said that he would try to finish high school
and then go to college. That made me very happy because I still do want Francis
to succeed and be the best that he could be. I suggested that after college he
should become a writer because even as a kid. In the end Francis asked me if he
could visit again sometime. But I didn’t think I could take the emotional pain
from another visit. So I told him to “have a nice life” I did not want to see
him again. I wanted to basically start all over again, on a brand new canvas to
paint my life portrait, without anything
or anyone from the past distracting me. A moment of silence came over us and
then bell separated it and so I did what I has to do and go to my next class,
creative writing. And the best story came to me it in that class it was about a
man chasing his true love to the exact location just to say that he was sorry
about what happened many years a go. It was the story of Francis Cassavant.
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