Time Stamp: 1:15 pm. October 5th, 1998.
Location: Sixth period, Mr. Slater's Chemistry class
I walked into class just as the bell rang and hurried over to my seat. I dropped my bag, and pulled out my chem book, along with paper, and a pencil. I set my stuff down on the desk, and looked over to my lab partner, Ray. He stuck his tongue out at me, and I rolled my eyes in response. He simply laughed.
I was about to sit down when I noticed a piece of paper on the chair. I snatched up the folded note and then sat down. Curious, I began to unfold the paper. The teacher, Mr. Slater, a man in his thirties, walked into class, a coffee in his hand. "Sorry I'm late, class!" He said, setting his bag, and the coffee down. "What were we doing yesterday? I forgot..." Mr. Slater was sort of an incompetent teacher.
I began to read the note. It was written in messy handwriting, that was almost illegible, but I could make out what the letters meant for the most part.
"Dear Friend,
My weekend was shitty, as to be expected. I never really enjoy myself anymore it seems... all the fun has been entirely sapped from my life, and the last person that I actually enjoyed speaking with stopped talking to me because of her... Even listening to music just makes me cry now. Why can't I just leave? In the time I've spent with her, I've found people who are far more worth my time and attention, bit I can't go. As of now, I really have nothing to live for. My life has lost it's purpose as far as I can tell. No creativity graces my mind anymore, but instead it is replaced by anger, hatred, and something I can't even identify. Colour no longer holds any beauty, and everything mind as well be different shades of black and white, because that's all my weary eyes can comprehend. I'm sick of seeing the world in shades. Already I have wasted my life, giving it away to a woman I hold no love for. Wont someone come and take me from this place that I once would have given anything to stay in? No longer do I have an outlet for my grief, my violence, or my anger. Music... even music no longer provides me the escape it once did. Where do I turn when even my most upbeat tunes kill me just a little with every note? It has come to the point that hatred boils up inside whenever I hear her voice, or see her face, but something keeps pulling me back. I should have gotten out when I was still my own person. Something keeps me wit her against my screams of protest. It's as if she has kidnapped my will to leave. Oh, how I wish I could leave. I am stuck, and as I struggle to escape, I only get pulled further in. It's quicksand. Please, I need help. Let me out of this prison! For the love of god, please just get me out!
~Frankie"
I stared at the paper in my hand, shocked.
"Mr. Way, are you going to answer the question?" My teachers voice drew me from my shock, "Oh god, I'm sorry... What was the question?"
Mr. Slater groaned, "Never mind then!" And then he asked a different kid.
"What's on the note?" Ray asked, trying to grab the paper from me. I jerked it out of his reach. "Nothing." I told him, quickly folding the paper and shoving it in my pocket. My friend frowned at me and pushed his hand through his frizzy hair, "Fine then!" He shook his head, and turned back to the front of the room.
I pushed my book to the side, and got out a blank piece of paper, then I began to write.
--
By the time I was done writing, the bell had rung. "Gerard, class is over." Ray said, jabbing me gently in the side. "Right, are we hanging out after school today?" I asked him. He nodded, "Yeah. If you can focus on something other then a pen and paper." He said, nudging me. "Alright, alright."
I quickly signed the letter "Sincerely, a friend." I think I would keep my identity secret. "I've gotta give this to Slater." I walked up to the teacher, "Mr. Slater, do you have a kid named Frank in your fifth period class?" I asked our science teacher.
He turned and looked at me, "Yes, I do." He said nodding.
"Could you give this to him for me, tomorrow?" I asked, handing the teacher the note. He took it from me, "Yes, okay."
I turned to leave but then remembered something, "Just give it to him though, don't tell him who it's from."
The teacher raised an eyebrow but didn't question me, "Alright, now get out of my classroom." He shooed me away.
Ray was waiting for me at the door, "Lets gooooo already!" He said in a sing song voice.
I rolled my eyes and followed him out into the hallway.
"Frank! Stop dawdling!" I turned to see a girl with brown hair, tugging a shorter, black haired boy in a cardigan that covered his neck, along violently. "Jamia! That hurts a lot! I need to stop by Slater's classroom, I told you! I left something there!"
I raised an eyebrow, that must be who left the note.
Fuck... he was cute.
"Fiiiiine." The girl, Jamia, sighed, letting go of Frank's arm. The boy stumbled forward, crashing into me, sending my papers and books, and me onto the floor. "Oh my god! I am so sorry!" The boy shrieked. He offered his hand out to help me up. I took it, and he pulled me up. I was a lot taller then him I found out in a moment. We both crouched to gather my stuff.
"Frank! Get whatever the hell you needed to get, and then let's go! I'm sure your friend can gather his stuff on his own." Frank shot up straight, "Right. Sorry for bumping into you." And then he was gone, running into Slater's classroom.
His girlfriend was glaring daggers at me, and I could feel it as Ray and I walked away.
"That girl did NOT like you..." Ray commented once we were outside.
"No kidding."

Notes

So, I found an old note I had written to myself about my horrid ex, and I decided I would base a story off of it!
I have too many ideas, lord help me.

Comment, rate, subscribe, feel bad for Frank, hate me for making Jamia a crazy bitch, all those nice things.

Later lovelies, enjoy!