Dear Edmund:
Our classroom likes to be obnoxious sometimes. I'm sure you've noticed Edmund. It's really impossible not to.
I suppose that's normal, for a group of forty four teenagers inside a single classroom.
But even though it can be a bit entertaining sometimes, or even work in your favor. It can sometimes...not. Work in your favor.
Like that once when they started shouting about you and Natalie. And that shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did. You looked uncomfortable too, Edmund. Pained. I wanted to punch all of their faces in.
Shutupshutupshutupshutup.
Or when Michael and I are talking, and suddenly we hear whooping and shouting, and we know it's directed at us. And you are right. there.
And no, goddammit, I like you.
It's worse when you are the one doing the teasing, I can see you don't mean it. I'm right next to you Edmund. I can see how uncomfortable it makes you, to make fun of Mike and me, when you can surely see how much it pains me.
You probably don't know why, though.
It's because of you.
It's because I'm very much in love with you, Edmund.
And the class is really not helping me out here.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Edmund
Non-Fiction"Letters to you, even though you'll never get them" (This book is like a diary for me, everything that happens actually happens for real, so please respect my work and the characters because they are real people)
