3rd Place
“The Promise”
by Julia Fong, age 14
I remember the good times,
feeling safe in my father’s
strong hands,
as he lifts me
to the sky
and back
over
and over
and over
again
He is tired now,
a little sweaty,
as he sits in his favorite lawn chair
holding a cold beer
and making
a face at me
with one eye closed
and the corner
of his mouth
turned down
like Popeye’s
He doesn’t have
a tattoo of an anchor
on his arm
but he could
and it would fit
right in
He met my mother
on a bus
and they laughed
and laughed
for ten miles
past his stop
until he got out at hers
He smiled and it was all over for her
He’s a good dad,
when he feels right,
but sometimes
the dark places
in his heart
ooze to the surface
and make his
eyes seem distant
and a little scared,
like a small child
left alone
in the dark
He keeps it together
for what I know now
is eternity
for someone like him
who meets the devil
every day
even though he’s
done nothing wrong
except be himself
I am away when it happens,
at the beach as it turns out,
enjoying time in the sun kissed water
and frolicking with my teenage friends
He takes the slim black revolver
he keeps hidden in his closet
and places it on the bed
I am running along a stretch of sand
leaping to catch a Frisbee that spins inches
away from my outstretched fingers
and falls onto the highest spot
to which the tide has crept
He takes out a notepad
and in his perfect handwriting
tells us that he loves us
and that it’s not our fault
and that there is nothing
Any of us could have said or done
and that it’s just a hole
inside of him
that can never be filled
and that grows larger
every day
until today
when it is
bigger than him
I sit with my friends
around a beach camp fire
holding my hands out
to feel the warm air
flow through my whole body
as my friends toast
marshmallows and hotdogs
on improvised skewers
made from hangers
His note finished,
he picks up the gun
and almost daintily
holds it up to his temple
There is no one else
in the house
and the cool air
from the wall unit
moves the curtains ever so slightly
as his finger caresses
the trigger
And
Then
Nothing
For a long time afterwards
I am numb
and even now
years later
I meet people
who tell me what
a nice guy my father was
and I always focus on
the past tense, the “was”,
because it highlights
so much
the fact
that he really is gone
I try in my own way
to tell his story
to keep him alive
to stop some other kids
from having their own life torn away
I am no preacher
but if the story I tell
can help someone
I don’t know
get help in time
well then
maybe he didn’t die in vain
and maybe there is some odd kind of purpose
to the universe
I meet experts
who tell me
that suicide
can happen
to any family
in any town
at any time
And that
early recognition
is the best way
To fight back
the scourge
and that
by simply
sharing
my family’s story
I am keeping
the promise
I made to my Dad
after he died
that I would
do everything
I could
to help
save a life
and a child’s heart
I speak one-on-one
and in auditoriums
filled to the rafters
and in every venue
I do my best
to plainly
explain that
there are always signs,
little things,
that let us know
that something
is off kilter
and that if we
don’t ignore them
we do
have a fighting chance
to stop
the darkness
from winning
The promise I made
can never be
completely kept
until, I too, am dust
and when that happens,
and I join my father,
I know that
he will finally
be at peace
So thank you
for listening
I learn as much
from you
as you can possibly
learn from me
So remember
to kiss and hug
your loved ones
like it will be
the last time you see them
because, well,
you never know
I’ll hang around
for a few minutes
to chat with any
of you
who wants
to come up
Goodnight
and be safe
We’re very pleased to announce the results of our special Teen Zine Writing Contest! The theme was TEEN ADVOCACY. We received some amazing submissions, and we have here our top three winners. Thank you very much to everyone who participated!