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Personal Response


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Personal Response

  1. 1. <br />The Guitar<br />Kendra Horvath<br />March 22, 2010<br />Humanities 30<br />Mr. Kabachia<br />On a crisp Tuesday morning, J.C. McCarty walked up the stairs of the Gregory Cannon High School. She had just started her twelfth year school there in the fall and it was tough being the new kid. She was one of the only kids who wore a black Metallica shirt and ripped up skinny jeans in a school where most of the kids strived to be the next Abercrombie and Fitch models, so she knew right away that she wasn’t going to be the most popular person. As she made her way to the small group also wearing similar black t-shirts, she had noticed something different. There was one less person in the crowd, her friend Jenny Lavrash. Jenny was one of the first people who had ever spoken to J.C. and they became close friends after that. Jenny and J.C. had started to hang out consistently, and J.C. had noticed that she and Jenny were very much alike. Not by just the way they had dressed, but by the way they didn’t really seem to care much about what other people thought. The only difference was that Jenny had a high respect for authority, so it was weird that she had been missing.<br />“Hey J.C., how‘s it going?” asked J.C.’s friend Michael.<br />“I’m good thanks,” J.C. replied, “Has any one seen Jenny?” <br />A collective no rose up from the group.<br />“She usually walks with you doesn’t she?” asked another one of J.C.’s friends.<br />“Yes, but I woke up a little late so I thought she left without me,” said J.C., “I’ll go give her a quick call.”<br />J.C. flipped opened her phone and scrolled down her contacts list until she saw Jenny’s phone number. She dialed it, but it rang until the familiar voice message came on. Hey its Jenny, leave a message for me! <br />“Hey it’s me, J.C.,’ J.C. said after the beep, just wondering where you were. Give me a call.”<br />Just after J.C. had put her phone away, the school bell rang so she hurriedly went off to class.<br /> As first and second block went by, J.C. started to worry. Jenny had never missed a day of school, even when she was sick. The teacher’s usually had to send her home if they knew that she was too sick to be at school. J.C. decided to walk over to her house at lunch to see what was going on with Jenny. <br />After the lunch bell rang, J.C. practically ran over to Jenny’s house. She had had a bad feeling all morning, but had just assumed it was because she woke up late. J.C. walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell and waited a minute. There was no answer. She rang again and still no answer. She reached for the door handle and realized it was opened, so she walked in. <br />“Hello?” J.C. called out “Is anyone home?”<br />J.C. could hear the familiar lyrics of her favorite Led Zeppelin song playing softly in the background, and it seemed to be coming from Jenny’s room. She walked down the hallway to Jenny’s room and knocked softly on the door.<br />“Hello?” J.C. said again as she pushed open the door.<br />Lying on the floor of the familiar room was her friend Jenny with an empty bottle of pills in her hand, a lifeless look on her face. J.C. screamed and reached for her phone.<br />The events of the day had kept replaying in J.C.’s head that night. She had called 911 as soon as she found Jenny’s body on the floor of her room and sat by Jenny as she waited for the ambulance to arrive. The police had cleared J.C. out of the room when they arrived, so J.C. waited to hear any news of Jenny’s condition outside. The police found a suicide letter that Jenny had written and it had said was her good-byes to her family and friends and that she just couldn’t live anymore. <br />As the days went on, J.C. became more and more isolated. She wouldn’t sleep or eat, and would barely do any of her school work. J.C.’s mother started to notice this, so she approached J.C. one night. <br />“J.C., can we talk?” J.C.’s mom said.<br />“Sure,” J.C. replied. “What’s up?”<br />“Well I’ve been noticing that you’ve been down a bit over this whole Jenny thing, so you really need to do something about it,” her mom said, “and I’ve got something in mind.”<br />“What’s that?” J.C. asked.<br />“I bought you a guitar, because I knew you and Jenny had always talked about it, so you should try playing one. See if it makes you feel better,” she said as pulled out an old acoustic guitar.<br />“But mom I can’t play guitar,” J.C. said.<br />“I know, but I bought you books to learn and self teach,” J.C.’s mom said. “Just try for me please? It might make you feel better.”<br />J.C’s mom set the guitar down beside J.C. and left the room. J.C. picked up the guitar and ran her fingers down the smooth neck. A chill went up her spine and she positioned the guitar on her lap. She strummed a tuneless song, but somehow she knew that it would be okay.<br />