Fifteen Minutes of Fame
Written March 2003.

She stood, teetering, on the brink of mortality, staring into the deep, dark abyss that never ended. She wanted to fall, and would ultimately fall, and she didn’t mind the dark. The only alternative would have been the pain, the pain that never ended. That of her heart and her body. She wondered if it would end if she fell. But it promised darkness, a depth that she would never again see.

As she stood on the edge, waiting for the final push that would send her over, and yet not daring to take the plunge herself, she reflected on the events of late.

Had it truly been that long ago since Carly and her group of friends, the popular and elite group in the school, and asked her to join them? How many times had she yearned to be one of them? To hang out between classes just beside the staircase. To laugh and joke around like them? To dress like them, even. But until now, she’d only gotten rebuffs.

Then finally, they’d said “hi” to her in an almost inviting way and then proceeded to ask her to join them after school. Would she? She’d thought at that time. Of course she would! Who would have said no to an opportunity like this? To say no would have meant a lifetime of ridicule.

The first day at Carly’s house had been close to fun. There was the group of girls, then there were the guys. She was the only newbie there, the one who didn’t know much at all.

The weekly after school meetings had turned into daily meetings. She even found herself skipping classes to be with those who had different lunches from her. She’d dropped all her old friends. They’d warned her, oh, they had a lot of time, about this group of girls. But she figured them for simply being jealous of her and her newfound friends.

She changed in many ways too. Her parents noticed, and commented on it. He grades slipped, and they got regular phone calls about her skipping. She laughed it off, and left the house to avoid them.

Then the weird stuff started happening at Carly’s house. Or she’d thought it was weird. First, they played spin the bottle. She’d laughed, figuring it for a preschooler’s game. They’d looked at her, glared in fact, and she’d stopped. Newest one here spins, they’d said. If it’s a guy, you have to kiss. Really kiss, not pecks on the cheek.

They’d all looked at her. She’d shrugged off her uncomfortable feeling and spun the bottle. It stopped. Brad. She looked at him. He got up and walked towards her, everyone staring at them both. He came and put his mouth towards hers. They kissed.

That was it? She’d thought at that time.

Then Brad had asked her out. Of course she said yes. Who’d say no to going out with the cutest guy in the school? Even her newfound friends were jealous.

Then the real trouble had started. She began skipping whole days in school to go to Brad’s house and listen to music. Before, she’d only skipped individual classes. He never went to school. He never passed his classes. But he was still the cutest guy in school, probably only because he had flunked so many times he was now the oldest kid in the school.

She’d started smoking cigarettes, and her parents had thrown her out of the house. She’d moved in with Brad. He didn’t seem to mind. She slept on the couch, at first. Then became a permanent fixture in his bed. She was glad her parents didn’t see this. She went back to get her things, and left again. Her parents didn’t say anything.

She didn’t know if he liked her or not, or if he was seeing some other girl. She really didn’t care, as long as she had a place to live. Her parents would take her back in if she went asked, but she could go back to face them.

She didn’t see her friends much anymore. She didn’t go to school. It was a waste of time. She wondered how Brad got his money, but didn’t ask. He paid his own bills and lived on his own. She couldn't care less.

The first time he handed her cocaine, she’d stared at it, and he’d laughed at her. He’d shown her how to smoke it. She was hooked.

Then the party. She’d been high before the party. And she smoked more as the night wore on, intoxicated by the alcohol she was also consuming. She’d been in the bathroom, when she started retching violently.

The police would come and arrest Brad and the rest, her included, but she would never know this. She wouldn’t last, the doctors had told her parents. They stayed by her bedside, and cried for her. She hurt inside.

Then the final push had come. She’d fallen into the deep, dark abyss, never to recover. She wondered where she would go now, not that it mattered. Perhaps she would keep falling.

The monitor in her hospital room showed a flat line. They all came rushing, but it was too late.

The next day, there would be an article in the newspaper. “Girl dies of drug overdose”, it would say, and go on to detail her life’s story.