ITS HARD TO SAY I WAS WRONG. ITS HARD TO SAY I MISS YOU. "Come on. Get up." He whispered. We were in the middle of the school. It was about 6:30. For some reason, he needed to see me earlier than usual. Then suddenly, Josh's muscular arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up to the ground. "You have to try walking." "I can't... I can't do it." He watched me sit back down again, his patience suddenly turning into frustration. "Lorraine...HOW DO YOU KNOW IF YOU DONT EVER FUCKING TRY?!" He began screaming at me as I sat, the little helpless one in a wheelchair. I wonder what everyone would think of me. "Excuse me..." spoke an older man. A teacher. We both turned to him, annoyed by his rude interruption. "Is this man bothering you?" I looked at Josh and exhaled. "No. He's not." There is a girl in my drama class. Her name was Jennifere Cooby. A name which would never be remembered. A name which would never make the lights. A dreamless actress. She spent every free second reading as the rest of us went into our little groups without her. She never seemed to care. I wondered if she had any friends. Each time I saw her, it was with a different book, each a novel. A novel which she lived in, because dreams were always better than reality.