I Love You, Wyatt

0. After

January 2012

"Students and staff, please pardon the interruption. As some of you may already know, there was an incident that occurred this weekend involving one of our students. For that reason, we will be having an assembly. Teachers, please begin to escort your students to the auditorium". With that, the overhead cut off.

Wyatt barely catches any of what was just said. His eyes are vacant, staring into nothing in particular until his teacher shakes him out of it. "C'mon, son. You're going to be left behind". Miles Nye, his macroeconomics teacher, gives him a look of concern. "You alright?"

Forcing a smile on his face, Wyatt stands up. "Yeah," he says, hurriedly gathering his things. "Never better". Wyatt's eyes are red-rimmed, his hair is disheveled, and he also looks like he hasn't slept a wink in days — that last part is especially true. Every time he closes his eyes, the images would flood his head, haunting him for the rest of the night.

His feet are on autopilot, leading him to the auditorium without him even knowing. It isn't until he hears the principal's voice echoing throughout the wide room that he realizes he is already seated. "Alright," Thomas Graham, the principal of Morton Ranch High, starts off.

He's a tall and burly black man who usually had a resting scowl on his face. But, today the man looks absolutely devastated. His usual pin-straight posture is slightly slumped.

"Good morning to all of you. I wish this meeting was about a much lighter topic. But, unfortunately, that is not the case".

One of the students beside Wyatt let out a fake, exaggerated yawn, causing the people surrounding him to laugh. "Man, I don't even care. At least we're missing pre-cal". The group of five snicker at what their friend said, all of them nodding and making noises of agreement.

His eye twitches in irritation. How blatantly disrespectful those people were being doesn't sit well with him in the slightest. Wyatt so badly wants to reach out and slap the lot of them. It's the least they deserve for their rude behaviour.

"Hey. Quiet down," Mr. Graham attempts to shush them. Within moments, the room is silenced. "As I was saying," he clears his throat before continuing. "Last Friday, a former student of ours, by the name of Jacob Reyes, took his own life..." Mr. Graham keeps talking, but at that point, Wyatt stops listening.

He'd occasionally catch onto random words and phrases like "tragedy" and "no bullying zone" and "campus counselor". Wyatt scoffs at the last one. These people aren't grieving. They aren't sad that Jacob is no longer walking down the same corridors as they are. They don't care.

They didn't even know him.

Wyatt decides then he's had enough. He snatches up his tote that was resting beside his feet and stands up. All eyes shift towards him at the abrupt movement.

The principal stops mid-sentence. "Something you want to add, Mr Parker?"

"I — " the words get caught in his throat. Wyatt licks his dry lips, swallowing down the bile that is slowly making its way up.

He takes one good look around, eyes subconsciously lingering on his old group of friends. Some had the audacity to shed tears as if they were truly sorry for what they'd done.

"Well?" Principal Graham's question pulls him out of his thoughts.

Wyatt doesn't speak. Instead, he walks up to the podium and stands side by side with his principal. "May I?" Wyatt asks, gesturing with shaky hands at the microphone.

Principal Graham simply takes a step back with a nod of confirmation, eyes softly regarding him. "The floor is yours". He sends Wyatt a friendly and reassuring smile, as if to ease his nerves.