My eyes, His Lense · Short Stories · writing

Chapter 2: No ride?

It was an average morning just like any other. I threw on some black leggings, my black hat hit with the nike swoosh logo, my black jacket, and slipped on my black nike shoes. For someone who was trying to be a lot more positive and vibrant I liked dark colors.

It was 7:47am when I finally walked out the door and ignored my mother as she told me to eat breakfast. I’m not really the type of person to eat breakfast before 11am or socialize with other human beings before 1pm. I am also working on that, trust me.

I put my ear buds into my ears and turned scrolled through my endless music that ranged from Michael Jackson to Vicente Fernandez to the theme song of the Drake and Josh song. I’m normally a little more energized in my mornings, but today I was feeling a little under the weather. I force myself to wake up everyday at 7:30am and go out on a daily run. My doctor recommended it and after 2 years I finally decided to take her advice. It’s actually really relaxing and it helps me connect with the life that I am missing out on. I normally run six to seven miles in the morning but once again I wasn’t feeling that well so I decided to go to one of my favorite spots. Ever since I was diagnosed with depression, which was year after I already had it, I had made it my goal to connect with nature more. I spend long hours locked away in my bedroom and only go out to go to school or on my daily runs. I’m not much of a fan for socializing, unless it’s me telling strangers “excuse me” as I pass by them.

I ran two miles until I finally made it to my destination. I really enjoyed coming up here because it was near the beach, by at least 5 minutes. I liked it so much I set up a hammock there and I go there and watch the sunrise or when I want to watch the surfers crash into the waves. It was up on a little hill and you could see the pier from a distance, and I always see little old Rolo spill his trash whenever he yells at the seagulls.

I climbed up the two to three rocks and pulled myself up from an old tree branch that was strangely strong enough. The sun had already rose, but the sky looked so beautiful. I decided to lay in my hammock for a couple of minutes before I headed back to my house.


I was looking at my reflection in my mirror as I applied my mascara. I had bright blue eyes that I got from my mothers side of the family. They made my eyes look extra big, which I personally liked. I have a weird thing for eyes. Our eyes see so many things trough out our lives. They’re like a lens but we can’t erase the memories, they stay with us forever. Getting a little to deep there, which I do a lot because of my depression.

I was getting ready because my parents were insisting that we go to one of my uncles-daughters-husbands-sisters quincenera. I only said yes because I feel like I owe it to my parents to try and look as if i am somewhat put together, plus they said I could take my penny board just in case I wanted to go home early. I wasn’t much of a dress type of gal so I threw on a black mesh body suit top with some black thin dress pant material joggers, and finished my outfit with some black wedges. I had crazy long hair so trust me when I say that it took forever to straighten my hair.

We pulled up in my dads Tundra and jumped out of the backseat. I heard the loud music from the dirt field, which they were using as a parking lot. They were playing La Chona as we walked in to a building that was potentially filled with strangers and family that I didn’t know about. My parents instantly ditched my after we found a table, to go and dance. I, of course, was taking advantage of the free food. I walked up to the window where ladies in hair nets where running around in the kitchen asking each other, “Oli, y la cebolla?”, “Ya viene Pepe con la salsa, haste. No vas servir mas arroz?”, “Traite a la Carla para que se pone ayudar nos”. Like the usual, the assumed that I didn’t speak Spanish so they held up one finger then two, asking me how many plates I wanted. After they handed me the plate, I told them thanks and that there was already a lot of onion on the table, in Spanish.

“Man, if I had a penny for the amount of times that happens to me, I would be broke,” a boy with a camera around his neck and a tripod in his arm said. “Yeah, well seeing their reactions after I speak to them, is always so priceless,” I said as I walked away to my table.

As my parents said I could, I ended up leaving the party at 8:25pm, right after the father daughter dance. I took my wedges off and walked barefoot to my dads Tundra and grabbed my board. I left my wedges in my dads truck and continued off to the sidewalk.

“Leaving so soon?” said the boy that approached me inside. “Uh yeah, why?” I asked. He pulled up his camera to his camera and snapped a photo of me. The flash blinded me pretty badly, especially since we were in the dark outside. Dangerous right? I mean I didn’t even know this guy and he followed me outside.

“Hey so you followed me outside and now you’re taking pictures of? You are either a really bad stalked or really like me.” I said as I put my board on the ground. “No. No. I’m not following you, my shift is actually over. I got paid to take photos tonight but the other guy just showed up to finish for me. And I sort of take pictures of everything so don’t tut your own horn,” he began walking away.

I got on to my board and started heading to my house which just happened to be the same way that he was heading. “You aren’t going to offer me a ride?” is the last thing I heard before I plugged in my earbuds.

My eyes, His Lense · Short Stories · writing

Chapter 1: Introduction

I learned to see life through a different perspective. At the end of the day, I was going to be okay, and even if I wasn’t that was okay. It was okay, because that was the worst life was ever going to get for me, but if I was ever put in a situation where life was worse, than I would want this over the worser day. Be grateful for the struggles that you go through, because there might be some more difficult ones along the way. Life is this beautiful struggle that is worth living and sometimes all you need to do is change the way you are looking at life.

Anyways, I am getting way to ahead of myself and just a tad to inspirational so let me start you off with a quick description of what you are about to get yourself into.

He had curly shoulder length alluring hair, dark skin, and such a big appetite for creation and of course, food. You could find him taking pictures of just about anything so from 5-6pm, expect his snapchat story to be updated with a sunset picture. But I mean nobody complains, because his photos are always so breath taking. He didn’t have much going for him, for his interest for receiving a higher education wasn’t so high. Not that receiving a higher education is needed or guarantees someone to get a good sustainable job. The only time you would see him interacting with other people was when he was getting paid for it. Not like that though, nasty. I mean he did get asked to do some topless photoshoots, but these girls just asked him because they liked that he was edgy. He didn’t budge, for he looked right pass them  with his camera lens. Besides that he was always alone doing his own thing, which was usually things that were out of the ordinary (but then again “normal” is different for everyone). He would do murals, photoshoots, self portraits, paintings, and inappropriate sketches when he was at the beach. His name was Joshua Juarez, but most people called him JJ. His first name was far from it but he was Hispanic and he couldn’t even try to deny it even if he tried. I loved it. His accent added a deeper tone to his voice, which till this day still makes me scream a little.

So you might be wondering who was describing the handsome JJ, well that was me. I’m your average eighteen year old, except for the height, that is not so average, i’m 5’1. I suffer from this mental condition called depression and it is highly “overrated” now a days in society. Before I move on to another character trait, let me explain myself. Depression has developed to be this mainstream thing on social media, mainly on tumblr, but it’s a serious illness. It really sucks because it’s hard to be taken serious by my peers and those of higher standing than me. Back to describing myself in such negative ways to help you get an idea of who I am, though. Depression has definitely  learned to kick my ass everyday and it has even made a little friend called anxiety. I have to pull myself together to even be able to go out everyday. I love to play the guitar in the most random places, but the cool thing about that is that strangers give me money, which is why I continue to do it. That’s actually how I met JJ, but wait let me continue with this crazy long description of myself. I enjoy to run, write, read, and go on adventures. I used to have a deep passion for photography, but I slowly started leaning away from my camera and more onto my guitar. I like to spend a lot of time by myself, because the few friends that I used to have didn’t understand my anxiety. So I eventually began to drift away from the parties that would get us all mad drunk, the shopping that would lead my $2,000 limit credit card to get declined, and the long sleepless nights on oovoo. As for college, I am attending a local university to try and get a degree in something that I am indecisive about. I am Hispanic and enjoy traveling back to my lovely country of Mexico. My name is Aubrey Espinoza and this is the story of how I figured myself out.