I'm fine. Thanks.

7. Jimmy

I can't stop laughing. Stacy really forgot that today is Sunday. She told me about the stress she put herself through on the phone and somehow we ended up on my couch laughing and telling goofy stories. To me it doesn't matter if they are true or not, I just haven't been in this good of a mood in way too long. Maybe someday I'll even tell her everything that went wrong with me. Wooow slow down there kid, the voice in my head warns me, you know you can't trust anyone. In the end she'll laugh just like the rest of them. Oh how I wish my thoughts would shut up for once. Why can't I be just normal and be happy about the little things in life? I don't want to have major trust issues like this. But then on the other hand, what if she really does laugh in the end? Stop thinking, will you?!

For the rest of the day I try to push my thought aside. It's not really effective but okay. But after Stacy leaves, I fall into a hole. The thoughts come rushing in, leaving everyone for dead they overrun. And for the first time in weeks I grab that razor again. I hate myself so much. I just want to cut everything I hate out of my body which is basically everything. Once again I find myself thinking about the easiest most unpainful way to commit suicide. I always wanted to die flying. Not literally of course. But falling. From some cliff. Maybe from the Grand Canyon. The Rocky Mountains perhaps. It would at least be a pretty place to die. And maybe nobody would ever find me and I would become one with the mountains and would stay there forever. Still lying there long after everyone else would have gone, forgotten by the world. I somehow like the thought of not being remembered. But would I just die like that? Or is there still a chance I would live after crashing all my bones. I would have to take some pills right before I'd fall off the cliff and would then die flying. I know it's sick to see so much perfection in something so 'sad' but for me it is the most completed and beautiful thing to think of. With that sick smile on my face I finally fall asleep.

The next morning is Monday. We're back to Monday. I still hate Monday's. Unfortunately Stacy couldn't change that. But to be honest a lot has changed ever since she showed up. Ryan and I talk again and he's not that much of a jerk anymore. I somehow socialize more with the people in my class. And it's all because of Stacy. And I actually have not the slightest idea what she did to motivate them to talk to me.

Because my car has been repaired, Stacy doesn't need to take me to school and I drive on my own. I'm there as one of the first people. I like it that way. Just watching everyone else walking in. I see everyone. The ones that think they're super important and also the ones that don't want to be seen at all. How people walk says a lot about them. How confident they are for example.

The confident don't walk like in the movies, straight up and smiling a bit arrogant. No, they walk a bit more 'normal'. They laugh a lot and they're always surrounded by a group of friends. Those are the nobility of the school hierarchy, if you want to call it that way.

The next step underneath that are the middle class. They are mostly surrounded by one friend. They don't laugh that much because their smile has nothing to prove. And of course then there are the invisible. The confident and popular as well as the middle class don't really recognize them and that is exactly what the invisible want. All they want is to be left alone.

Until Stacy came into my life I wished I was invisible. But I wasn't. Everybody knew me because I used to be popular. Most of the people who still give me weird looks and talk behind my back don't even know the real reason, why I stopped hanging out with the cool kids. There are still rumors running around about what happened. None of them close to reality.

The reality is that after my parents died I spent a lot of time at home, not seeing anybody. I didn't want to. Of course Ryan and the others asked what happened. They all wondered why I wouldn't go to the parties anymore or why I wouldn't come and hang out. Of course I didn't tell them. And then at one point there were weird stories going from mouth to mouth in my school that I had did something illegal or so. I don't even know what they made up in their heads and I don't care. All I know is that I came back to school one day and nobody talked to me anymore. Even though I wouldn't admit it, it hurt. I thought that I had real friends. But I was wrong. Of course. Since then I didn't have any friends ... until Stacy came. That weird day a few weeks ago.

As if she just read my mind, Stacy walks in through the front door of the building, walking right up to me.