1. June 1, 2016 / 6:00 A.M.
I've decided to keep a journal. What I'm about to do, is beyond anything I could ever think of. My family, we're well known. I mean, even though we do live in a small town, we're pretty much the wholest family in the county. Every family wants to be like us, picture perfect. Except, I'm the only one who seems to be tired of this perfect lifestyle. It's become quite repulsing to me, and my friend McGee can even see the distaste on my face. Oh, before I continue to roll on about my life, let me introduce you to my best friend, McGee. McGee Carters, he's eighteen. A whole year older than me. He's really the coolest guy to be around, he's the one that kind've showed me the whole marijuana business. My first time smoking was with him. Now, did my perfect mom or perfect dad know about this? No. It was our secret. Not so put together know, are we (extreme sarcasm). Growing up together we played, but it all changed. Back in 2009, he had gotten in a car accident. Everyone survived, except he was no longer able to walk. Paralyzed from the waist down, he had to sit in a wheelchair. I stayed with him for a month, trying to convince him that it wasn't the end of anything. It took time, but he understands now I think. I mean, it never dented our friendship. We were still the same kids we always were. But back to the reason why I awake with nightmares at night. My family. Now mind you, there's me, my mom, my dad, my little sister (Kimmy), and my little brother (Jackson). The only thing more annoying than my routine life were the things I was dragged into. The hideous matching Christmas sweaters on Christmas cards indicating that we had lots of holiday cheer. The football we played outback every thanksgiving (against all my uncles), and the various awkward family get-togethers. Any who, the point is, my life was not my life. I tried so hard to please everyone and to create the image that our family was amazing to the town. But, it wasn't. I hated my life. I hated my family as a unit. We really didn't make our own choices, it all became so normal, that soon enough it was a routine. It was normal. To us. To me. But in the most recent time, I've thought about the things I've been through and have done, and it came to one conclusion. I can't stay here. I can't live in this town a minute longer. It kills me inside as a person to sit around and waste away. Waste away into a complete nothing. To the point where I'd grow, find a perfect wife and settle down perfectly. No! I would be subjecting my kids to the same life I had to live. To the same prison. Something has to be done. And I promise you, when I find out the solution. Houston will NEVER see me again.