five last letters

Mr Jenkins

Hello Mr Jenkins,

I think you didn't expect to come home and find a letter from your dead English student. So maybe I should explain. The answer is easy. I liked you. You were the only teacher who looked at me and didn't see a freak hiding behind the pages of books. You were also the only one who knew when I was happy and when I was sad. Others just looked at me and rolled their eyes.

'The sad boy again.', they said. 'I don't think he'll ever make it through class.'

You were the only one who actually believed in me and even liked the way I was. You even saw me as someone, no one else expected. You considered me intelligent and way too grown up for my age. That was the funny thing cause my other teachers always told me I was too childish.

I remember one time after class, I was looking for my book in my backpack. I didn't know that Mike and Henry had taken it and thrown it out of the window, I hadn't expected it. That was one of those things I found out much later. They just went off laughing and the only one who got left behind was us. You were working on something for the next class and I was busy working through my stuff, looking for my book. Some time passed and then you talked to me.
'Are you alright?', you said. You had that mix of look in your eyes: worry, concern and curiosity. 'Do you need something?'

'I'm just looking for my book.', I said, uncertain if I bothered you. 'I'm sorry, I'll be off in a minute.'

You just smiled kindly and walked toward me, your hands buried in your pockets. 'Don't you worry.', you said. 'I don't mind. And I lose my stuff all the time, too.'

I was still on my guard, but that was when I loosened up. I smiled at you, not sure if you would be surprised by my reading. Not many people in my class were reading actual books.
'Not many people in your class still read books.', you said that exact moment. 'Actually, the whole school, I think.'

'Yes, I ... I think they consider me a nerd.', I said self conscious and wrapped my arms around myself as though it would help make me feel protected. 'I'm not quite sure, though, why that's a reason to bully me all the time.'

'They bully you?', you said and suddenly you had that concerned look in your eyes. I recoiled and I'm still sorry about that.

'That's just what people like to call it.', I hurried to say. 'They just make fun of me, it's okay. No bullying, no ... never.'
'Okay.', you said slowly. 'Well, if you're sure ...'

'Absolutely.', I stood up and put my stuff back into my backpack. 'I'm sorry, I think I forgot my book in the lockers or something. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll see you tomorrow in Philosophy.'
'Sure.', you said, but you had that thoughtful look in your eyes. I went to leave and you stopped me once more. 'Wait. What are you reading?'

'The Lord of the rings.', I said and couldn't hold back the sadness in my voice. 'My favourite edition is the simple one and now it seems I've lost it ... I mean, I forgot in the locker.' I smiled at you. 'Goodbye, Mr Jenkins. I'll see you tomorrow in class.'

'Sure.', you muttered and then you let me go. But the next day, after class, you held me back.

'I got there something for you.', you said and took out a very simple edition of Lord of the rings. 'I'm not sure if it's the same, but I know you've lost yours. Keep reading, Alexander. That's important.'

I took the book from you, tucked it to my chest and stared you as though you were the only person on earth who ever understood me. 'Thank you.', I whispered. You chuckled slightly.

'That's alright, buddy. Never mind. I'll see you on Friday in class.'

I nodded and you went off and left me there, in the classroom. The sun was ready shining through the closed windows and it was warm and dull, dizzy somehow. You know, when everything is perfect and the dull thrum of the crackling wood of the window's frame is like a lullaby. I love those moments.

I took the book you gave me, sat on the window's bench and started reading from the beginning again. The words took me on their wings and carried me far, far away into a land where friendship was honored and gentleness was considered strength. Where all the heroes in some way were ... different. Freaks. I didn't realise how time went by, until it was too late. Miss Summers was angry with me but I didn't mind. All that mattered to me, was the books.

The next time I stayed in class longer because I wanted to. I was packing my stuff especially slowly and when you looked at me, you laughed.
'You again.', you said. 'How's the book? I hope you like it?'

'Absolutely.', I answered, 'I wonder - as a teacher of Philosophy, did you mention that all the heroes in books always are the outsiders? They always have their perks that make them special.'

'Indeed.' You quirked a brow at me. 'What do you think why?'

'Maybe because they want them to seem more human.', I thought out loud. 'Maybe it makes them less perfect and it is therefore easier to empathise with them. Also, maybe true heroes have to overcome their weakness to be ever really strong.'

'Quite good.', you said and then smiled. 'You should study Philosophy. Ever thought about that?'

To answer your question now, Mr Jenkins, no. I never thought about it at that time because I knew it would be hopeless. Deep down I always knew that I would not have a normal life. That I would have to leave earlier.

My conversations with you after class always were the highlights of my week ... until I met him, of course. Even then, it was still wonderful. You made me feel ... important. Grown up. Intelligent.

You asked me once whether I get bullied in class. I said 'no. Never.' You are a good person and you want to do good, so let me tell you something: if you ask a person whether he gets bullied and he answers like that ... don't believe it. They're just too scared.

You can do this. You made my life a better place and I thank you for that. Give that to other people, too.

Goodbye and good luck.
I want to thank you.

Alexander.