goddammit writers block

Social Issue: The choice of Silence in order to avoid ridicule

My friend died a couple of years ago. He died writhing on his bedroom floor with his eyes rolled back into his head, panicking, half-consciously—like an animal trying to reject ingested rat poison, or like an epileptic helplessly trying to overcome his convulsing debilitation. And once it was over, once his body laid lifeless and forlorn, failed from its last desperate attempt to flush out a surge of heroin, our attempts to forget his story, and bury it amongst the slew of hard memories began.
“Why didn’t anybody tell us?” his mom asks from the podium on the stage of the funeral home, her voice barely discernable from a mixture of anguish and devastation. A crowd of about two hundred people sitting before her, sounds of sniffles and gentle weeping arise from the hanging heads of people who can’t bear to look her in the face. “This didn’t have to happen” she continues pointing to the casket. “This didn’t have to hap--.” She says again, breaking into tears, rushing off stage and collapsing into her chair. And aside from the gentle whimper, the room falls silent again until


“His dad should just kick his ass” I would suggest to my friends as we stood by the tree we hung out at in CDO’s courtyard, talking just loud enough to make myself audible against the vibrant hum of the courtyard.
“Even then dude, Lujan wouldn’t quit, That shit is his life” Nick would always reply, dismissing my suggestion, and ultimately dismissing salvation for Lujan. Lujan’s mindless, droopy expression lost in a void, carelessly wandering and despondent.
“Are you high dude?” I ask in a numb disbelief
“Yeah” he giggles, bearing a foolish grin that reveals nearly all of his teeth. I shake my head, turning away and return back to the other conversations.
“Dylan’s fucking crazy guys” I say, to the new guys.
“Dude I heard he did meth yesterday” one kid
“What the fuck” I exclaim, blurted out in the form of passive rage, and in shock, I look over at the rest of our friends and see Dylan alone, strung out in a dense trance, showing interest in nothing.