In my 5th period class, I'm in science. She waits a while so kids can go to the bathroom and get their books. Only one person in this class really cares about me. And he isn't here. I think about my life.
I realize I am dead inside. I'm just a hollow shell. No one wants the shell to a peanut. They want the nut. But I never had a nut to begin with. So I'm just thrown off to the side. Left to rot.
Teacher gives us a test and then notes. Nothing fun ever happens. I'm dreading 7th period. I have Spanish. And in Spanish is the angel. The fallen angel. The teacher puts a movie on, and the class goes to sleep.
At the end we have roughly 12 minutes left, so she doesn't give us any work. I'm left to my thoughts. I decide to read my book more. It helps me escape.
The bell rings, and we head to our final period. You'd think I'd be happy but I'm not. I get some water and see the fallen one's friend. My heart trembles a little. I head down and go to the classroom.
The teacher says the same thing she does every time she sees me; "Hola hola Krittur." I go in and sit down. I see Ms. Fallen walk in. My heart dies a little.
The teacher waits for the shop student to arrive, then starts class. In the time until then, I think about my life.
My mom was never there when I was younger. I was and still am her slave. I have to do whatever she asks. She doesn't do much until I call her out.
My dad was driven to drink because she was so bad, but he didn't want to ruin my life by divorcing her. Now, he has divorced her and I'm happier with him.
The shop kid enters, and we begin with notes. I look at the clock and meet eyes with the fallen and quickly look away. I slump down in my seat and start feeling sick. I hate this. I hate how my life is right now.
After 20 more minutes, the intercom comes on and say we're leaving school an hour early. I grab my things and leave. The whole bus ride home I am quiet. I think about how I could kill myself.
I get off the bus 40 minutes later. I get the mail, and head up my steep hill. I remember how I found my mom's gun. I get home and throw my things into my room. I'm tired of this life.
I get the gun, load it and put up to my head. I am not scared. I'm calm.
I take a deep breath and pull the trigger.
