(Minor trigger warning in the beginning. Senses of a panic attack. Major trigger warning later)
Evan's POV:
I walked into the computer classroom silently and sat myself at one of the computers. My mom wasn't going to be able to pick me up until an hour after school had ended because of work and class so I decided to kill the time by finishing my letter. I turned the computer on and got onto my doc and started typing.
'Dear Evan Hansen
Today is going to be a good day because'
I paused. Why would it be a good day? 'Because... Because...' I sighed before completely erasing the sentence. Why should I lie to myself anymore than I need to?
'Today isn't going to be an amazing day. This isn't going to be an amazing week, or year. Because why would it be?'
I began to type faster and faster, getting more and more anxious and upset with every word I typed. Mostly because I knew every word was true. The other part because I wish it wasn't.
'Oh, I know because there's Zoe and all my hope is pinned on Zoe who I don't even know. And who doesn't know me, but, you know. Maybe if I could just talk to her. Maybe...'
I stopped, sighed then slumped back in my chair. Why would anything be different? Why should I even believe that anything would be different? A 'Confident Evan' didn't exist why would anything be, even in the slightest bit, different?
'Maybe nothing would be different at all.
I wish everything was different. I wish I was a part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean, let's face it, would anyone even notice if I just...'
I paused and looked at the screen. How did I want to end this sentence? It could go any way. I could say what I thought or put what people want to hear. I knew my therapist would read this eventually.
I started typing again
'If I just disappeared tomorrow.
Sincerely, your best and dearest friend,
Me.'
I quietly read over my letter, my therapist did say that I should be honest when I wrote these, he did also say that I should look on the bright side when writing it.
I decided to print the paper anyways.
I clicked print and got up to stand next to the printer to wait for my paper so I could just leave as quickly as possible and wait for my mom in the library or at the front of the school, but that's when I saw him. Standing right next to the printer.
Connor Murphy.
'AAHHHHHHHH' I screamed internally.
From what I knew, Connor Murphy wasn't a good person. He got high, he bullied people, he pushed me in the hall earlier, I also remember when we were young, 2nd grade I think, he threw a printer at the teacher. As funny as that might sound, you know with a small child somehow gathering the strength to pick up a printer, it wasn't anywhere near funny.
Much like the situation I'm in now.
I felt my hands clam up and my breathing become erratic. How am I supposed to talk to Connor Murphy if I can't even talk to the pizza delivery guy! I panicked even more when he spotted me.
