Mental Health
My Friend Was Lost in Translation
Disappearing act
It was the early 90s, you know the years before the internet was a craze or cell phones were everywhere. It was a warm fall day and some teenagers were playing hackysack at the gazebo park across the street from Clarkston High.
That’s where I met Jessie, I didn’t know it then but she was going to be one of the most important people in my life. There would be many more days like this sunny, early fall day where we would be playing sack, getting stoned, listening to music and just laughing at the grass grow.
The “preppie” crowd at school would give you dirty looks or give you shit for smelling like smoke. There were some who would of course talk to you or hang out outside of school when they wanted something.
I stole beer, wine, and cigarettes from all the gas stations and stores in the valley so sometimes they wanted party favors, sometimes they just wanted to get high without anyone else knowing. That crowd wouldn’t have asked Jessie for anything though.
Jessie was part of the “stoner” crowd and she was like Pat from Saturday Night Live, some people didn’t even know if she was a boy or a girl. She didn’t fit your stereotypical high school girl.
