The First Time

It was my first year in high school and in any real school. I was home-schooled beforehand because my parents were really protective of me. They said they wanted to keep my “innocence.” I just went along with it, not finding any reason to argue with it at the time. Although I was the one who wanted to go to a real school, I couldn’t help but feel terrified. I used to be extremely shy when I was little, and I hadn’t had much social interaction with other people my age throughout my childhood. So, going to a public high school was a huge step for me. Now that I think about it, being an only child and being home-schooled, I guess I wasn’t prepared for what was coming my way.
On my first day, I immediately went into the quiet, unnoticeable kind of stereotype. I didn’t like attention that much and I made sure my teachers knew that beforehand. I sat alone at lunch, usually just pulling out a book and reading by myself. It was like this for about a week. Then he came into my life. Kevin was his name; I won’t give out his last name for privacy reasons. I never noticed him at the table, I knew that another group sat on the other end, but I was always absorbed in my book to notice anything from lunch anyways. Like I said before, I left in peace for about a week, but then he interrupted it. At first, I was confused. I’m not the prettiest flower in the garden, and I’m “anti-social.” What about me would draw him in? I honestly still don’t know. We “talked” throughout the rest of lunch. Well, more like he talked and I listened. I always loved listening to him talk, the way he pronounced certain words made knots in my stomach that I never felt before. I didn’t see Kevin until the end of the day; I was beginning my usual route (I walked home) when I heard his voice calling after me. I was in complete shock when he asked me if he could sit by me every day. I simply replied with a nod, still bewildered. That’s when he smiled and said his goodbye, leaving me standing there like an idiot.
Thus, began our friendship. By the next week, I began to open up to him and actually started talking more. Only to Kevin though, the other kids didn’t even notice I was there half the time. My parents were so happy that I had finally found a friend, and insisted on meeting him. So the next day, I told him the next day that they wanted to meet him, and his cheeks grew red. For what reason? I have no clue. But he came over that evening, we walked together in silence. It wasn’t awkward silence, but nice. I always enjoyed the silence, the listening for movement or conversations.
By the time we arrived at my house, it was around supper time. It would normally take me half the time to walk home, but Kevin wasn’t used to walk, causing us to go slower. My parents adored him, and kept giving me looks that I’ve never seen before. I was almost as confused as the first day that I met Kevin. I just shrugged off the glances, and offered Kevin to stay for dinner. It was the least I could do for the poor kid, after the walk. He flashed me that usual cheerful smile and said sure, and that his parents wouldn’t mind unless he was home by 7.
During the meal, my parents shot question after question at him. I chuckled a bit at his reactions to some of them, once he heard me though his attention went straight to me. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh…” he said, to my surprise, in wonder. I just did one of my usual nods and continued on eating. But I couldn’t help but have a knot return in my stomach.
After dinner was done, my father took him home and I stayed behind to do dishes. My mother had a smile that I never seen her wear before, and it kind of freaked me out. Once I was done, I went up to my room and plopped down on my bed, falling asleep almost instantly. The next day, Kevin started acting strange around me. His cheeks would be red and he would stutter a lot. I don’t know why. Finally, at the end of the day, he asked me to Homecoming that was coming up in a few weeks; I nodded, thinking that we would be going as friends. But once I told my parents, they got uber-excited. I just shrugged it off again, thinking that they were just being parents and making stuff into what they weren’t.
It was the night of Homecoming, and I was in a simple dress that I’ve had forever. Kevin looked at me with that smile and had leaded me out into the night. We decided to walk, not wanting our parents to make things awkward. Or at least, that’s what I thought. When we got there, the music was so loud that the walls were vibrating. About half-way through I needed a break from all of this madness, so I asked him if we could go outside. It was late and I didn’t want to be outside at night, in a dress, by the street, by myself. He agreed and we walked out. Then he did something.
Kevin kissed me.
I was in total shock and slapped him right there. No one ever touched me, or did anything like that to me. Ever. Especially not the only person who I could trust besides my parents. This angered me beyond control, but I masked it and apologized. I made up a lie that it was instinct, and that another guy had touched me in a way that I dared not say and that I was still scared by it. He understood and also apologized. I nodded, realizing that, well, that he just took my first kiss.
My. First. Kiss.
My innocence. It was gone because of him.
I just hid my anger behind a comforting smile and asked if he could take me home. He did, reluctantly. By the time we reached my house, I asked him to wait outside for a moment as I walked inside and made the preparations. Once those were done, I opened the door and asked him to come in for a moment. And I did it for the first time. I lead him up to my room and locked the door behind us. I took out the small knife my parents gave to me for my birthday and I stabbed him.
I had finally killed someone for the first time.
Mom and Dad would be so proud.
Category:Mental Illness