Collapsing As It Sees The Pain (Percy Jackson)

Sincerely, Me

Patrick

"Patrick," the teacher called on me to come up and read my letter. Paris wasn't in this class, and I was the last one to read..

I didn't want to read. I tried everything to get out of this assignment. I'm dyslexic, I hate writing, and this entire thing was pointless. Paris didn't even write hers. High school sucks, I promise. So does life.

"Do I have to?" I questioned. Which, of course, earned some comments and snickers from the class. People don't like me here. I started here a couple weeks ago.

Brand new school. Paris isn't even in this school. She's the good one, you know? Susan wasn't here, either. So I'm alone. Again.

They've never been kicked out of school. I've been kicked out of every one so far.

"Yes, Patrick." Ms. Tre insisted after me asking for the millionth time this week. "I told you guys that you all had to do it. Even if you wing it, you have to get up and say something. It's a good way to get over anxiety. So just get up here and read off of your paper."

Sighing, I grabbed the notebook paper and headed to the front of the class.

"Dear Dad," I started, determined not to make a loser of myself. "I wasn't really sure who else to write to. Everything else kind of sounded stupid, so I figured I'd write to you."

I paused and took in a breath.

"So here it goes," I go on. "First of all, I'm sorry. I know that I'm not the son that you exactly dreamed of having. Compared to Paris, I'm your worst nightmare. Compared to Susan, I'm even worse. Grandma tries to deny it. She tells me I'm perfect in every aspect possible. But she's a grandma, that's her job. Uncle Nico can't even look at me anymore, and neither can Grover. They can't see any of us anymore."

I paused and took in a breath. This was harder than I intended.

"Secondly, I still don't..." I started to drift in my sentence. "I still don't get what happened or why it happened. Nobody has ever told us the nature story before. The most I ever got was out of grandma. She said that you had left your high school after a concert with a friend because Grover called you about something. We were worried for some reason, and you told Paris and I that you would come back. You promised that you would come back."

By now, I was starting to cry and I stopped caring. I started talking to my dad.

"So you left." I told my dad. "And nobody was worried. But around midnight I guess grandma started freaking out. It was the next morning when we got the call that... Well, that thank God you made it to wherever you needed to go safe. It wasn't a car accident. Grandma thought maybe you just got hurt again. I guess you got in trouble a like when you were younger. Like me."

Again, I had to stop and take a breath. I wasn't used to. Talking. I'm the quiet kid. I'm a troublemaker, but I'm also the quiet kid who just stays out of it all.

"But Uncle Nico finished his sentence." I told everyone. "He said that the night before he had gotten hurt and you saw him and you thought he was going to die and then you freaked out—" a tear fell down my cheek and hit the floor. "He said that you blamed yourself. You freaked out and then you grabbed a knife before Grover grabbed you. The next thing Nico was told after he was fixed up was that you were dead."

Suddenly the class started to listen to me.

"Grandma broke down on the spot." I told my dad. "We were playing in her living room and suddenly she started to scream. Nobody else was home. I don't know what happened after that, Dad. I don't remember going to see you, nobody has ever said anything about a funeral. They said that you killed yourself. I've never had the guts to ask how. Because as it gets easier and easier for Paris and for Susan, it's get harder and harder for me. Grandma tries her best. We all do. We all miss you. Sincerely, Patrick."