I'm in Social Studies the next day, watching Mr. Jurel talk about the Civil War. I'm actually paying attention for once since...I don't know. I feel as if Mr. Jurel is the only person that cares about my wellbeing. He's the only one. Well, that's a lie. There was Danny but he was killed. 

I raise my hand, watching it quiver violently. Mr. Jurel looks at me, raising an eyebrow before smiling. "Yes Eddie?" 

"Wasn't the Civil War also called The War Between the states," I question softly. "Yes, but it is commonly known as..." He goes on, but I tune him out as a paper lands on my desk. It's neatly folded and has the words "To Eddie Pilikian" in bold, cursive letters. My teacher stops his lesson and walks over to me. 

"Eddie, hand me the-" Mr. Jurel says but I ignore him and unfold the paper, reading over it.

Hey Eddie, you just haven't listened to me have you? Fucking kill yourself already. Nobody cares about you. And those who "care" are just PITYING you!!  Fucking jump off a bridge or freeze to death because NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU!!! It's pathetic that you're adopted, I wouldn't want a useless son either. Pathetic. Worthless. Bitch.

Tears build up in my eyes before I shoot up, grabbing my backpack before running out of the classroom. I run to the nearest fire alarm and pull it, making the alarm go off. I run out of the school with the rest of the students. 

•

I'm on the couch, crying and sobbing when the doorbell rings. I wipe my eyes before getting up and answering the door. "He-hell-hello?" I ask before looking up. 

"Mr. Jurel!?"