serendipity ✴ lashton

Luke [chapter three] not edited

{Age, eight}
{Grade, two}

Dear Ashton,

The first day of school. Second grade. I was excited, I was very interested in learning new things when I was little, not so much anymore. Well, not anymore. I can't really say that, can I? I mean, but the time you'll be reading this, I'll be dead. Hopefully in heaven, but probably not, who am I kidding?

This year, you were actually in my class, which I was so bummed out to find out. Over the course of last year and over the summer, our parents had gone over to eachother houses, dragging us with them. They thought we were friends.

They couldn't have been more wrong.

While they were drinking...happy juice, cracking jokes, and overall have a great time, we were trying to strangle eachother upstairs. Whether it was in your room or mine. Calling eachother names, or just ignoring the others existence. It was either one of the two, or neither. There was no inbetween, what's so ever.

Well anyways, back to the memory. Ahem. So, everyone had introduced themselves. Their names and what was the thing we liked to do in our free time, shit like that. I remember you saying that you enjoyed being nice to others. I snorted out loud and everyone looked at me. I just smiled. They had no idea.

You glared.

You seem to enjoy doing that.

We were assigned seats, and woohoo! Lucky me! I was right. Infront. Of you. Satan really favored me that day, didn't he? I think so. The whole day went by with us completely getting in trouble, and me getting most if the blame for it. The people who sat around us didn't even bother to tell the truth, that you were causing most if the ruckus.

Fun fact, I've actually never used that word befor, ruckus. It was on my list of things to do before I died. I just checked it off.

Anyways, even then, back in second grade, you were favored. By teachers, parents, students. Even that stupid squirrel that kept coming up to you at recess time. How? I don't know. I'm talking about the squirrel, by the way. Not the humans. I get when I wasn't very popular. I just wasn't talkative, while you were a social butterfly. But how the hell does a squirrel get attached to someone! It would be there everyday basically waiting for you. And I knew it was the same one too. It had a little bald spot on its tail.

Is it weird that I'm obsessing over who was most popular with squirrels? Maybe. Maybe I'm insane. Insanity is a huge contribution to suicide. Maybe that why I did it? And you too, you helped me die.

I guess I should thank you, eh?

I feel Canadian.

I've always had a short attention span, didn't I? Well, I really didn't know until fifth grade, but I'll get to that later. That's another topic for another letter.

The real reason for this letter was just about how you were always more liked. Everyone loved Ashton Fletcher Irwin.

And I was just the quiet blonde kid in the background.

I hate squirrels,
Luke.