Dear Richie

February 18th Age: 15

Dear Richie,

I know that I haven't written in awhile and I'm sorry for that. I won't give any excuses or buts.

Sometimes I feel like I need to rationalize every single decision I make, as if I need to have a good enough explanation for whenever someone asks.

I can never make a decision based on anything other than logic. I can't use impulse or instinct as an excuse. It has to be logical, never assumptional or emotional.

Then how come I feel the need to prove myself when it's not even necessary?

I say this because of all those people at the school, all those jerks, hypocrites, and liars, they are all just so...

I mean, I have a right to want to know why everyone automatically hates me, right? It's normal to feel torment and hatred towards those who have wronged you, right?

Last month, when you were gone the first week of school after winter break, those three boys, more specifically, threw me into a dumpster. A DUMPSTER. What human in their right minds would do that to another innocent person? I never did anything to them, so why do they desire to hurt me so badly?

Don't they have to rationalize decisions that they make?

Since then, I have learned those guys' names. They're all seniors, who I have never met before. One is Nolan Finch, the leader of the group, I would guess. The strongest of the group is Henry Atchison (Don't ask how I know that). Then there's Theo Westbrook, the dumbo of the trio.

They have thrown me into trashcans four other times, and locked me in the janitor's closet five times.

They've shoved me to the ground, onto the lockers, INTO the lockers.

I am their personal punching bag.

I don't know what to do, Richie. People see me getting hurt, being pranked and teased, but nobody does anything about it. They stand there and stare or laugh.

Nobody cares about me, I feel like.

Maybe because I am a nobody.

No worth. No value. Nothing.

I don't even know why you became my friend again, out of the blue. Do you see it happening to me? Do you know how everyone else is treating me?

Now that I think of it, is this friendship we have even real? Nobody else seems to like me, so why you? How come, out of every person you could be hanging out with, you choose to be with me?

And I mean just hanging out kind of "be with me". Not, like, dating "with me" kind of thing...

Are you who you say you are? Or is this some kind of cruel, sick prank you're pulling?

I guess I will just have to find out.

Leia Meadows