Connor's ears kept ringing as he ran outside of the school. He kept running. He didn't care where he went so long as it was far away from the school.
His lungs started to burn and his legs started to shake. Connor kept running through it. He fell down once or twice on the cold pavement, but got up and ran again.
Eventually, the burning in his lungs was too much and Connor had to slow to a walk. He looked behind him for a moment. He had run nearly four blocks away from the school.
Man, I should get in better shape, Connor thought.
Connor didn't know where to go. His home was buried in too many angry memories to go back there. Plus, Cynthia was probably at home, obsessively cleaning or meditating or rearranging all the furniture. He looked down at his hand. It was still clutching the letter. He decided to read through it and see just how disgusting the things Evan wrote in his letter were. His eyes scanned the black print.
"Because there's Zoe," he muttered aloud. "And all my hope is pinned on Zoe who I don't even know and who doesn't know me. Maybe if I just talked to her, maybe nothing would be different at all. I wish everything were different. I wish I was part of something," Connor paused.
I'm such an idiot, he thought to himself. This is why everyone thinks I'm a freak. I lose my temper over the smallest of things. Evan didn't deserve any of what I gave to him. I hurt him not once, but twice. I'm such a screw-up. Why would anyone ever want me around?
He folded the letter into his back pocket. Connor kept walking. He decided he would go down to the river that drifted its way through town. There was a park not more than a mile from the school that sat on the river. Connor wanted to be somewhere close to nature.
If anyone had bothered to get to know Connor, they would realize that Connor loved rivers. They fascinated him because they were formed from millennia upon millennia of snow melting to a point that it created a place where all that snowmelt would gather and flow down mountains and valleys, carving a pathway through whatever terrain they were met with.
Rivers didn't care if there was something in their way. They would either push through it or go around it. They were strong and stable, making their mark on the entire world. They were so unlike Connor.
Connor felt more like a trickle of water trying too hard to be a stream. He wasn't cut out to make it to the river at the bottom of the drainage. He was destined to sink into the ground, possibly drowning all the flora around him.
Connor rounded the last corner before reaching the park. He felt tears in his eyes as he was met with the familiar fishy scent of the river. He wanted to be part of this. I wish I was part of something. Connor remembered Evan and his letter. Connor wished he hadn't pushed Evan or ran off with his letter. Maybe Connor was just the same as the boys that laughed at him. What made Connor any better than those creatures?
He stopped in his tracks, just watching the water tumble over rocks for a few minutes. He ran to the river bank, pulling off his boots before he had come to a full stop. He took off his socks and rolled his jeans up as far as they would go.
He waded into the frigid water, feeling the sediment cushioning his toes. He stood in the water for a little while, enjoying the sensations of his feet slowly going numb. The first few minutes were the worst because the icy water made his nerves scream in agony. After a little while, though, the pain went away and was replaced with complete numbness.
Connor shuffled his numb feet, testing to see if he could feel anything at all. There was still a negligible amount of feeling in his feet, but for the most part, Connor couldn't feel the rocks and sand under his feet or the sensation of water rushing over his toes.
Connor wondered if this was what death felt like. Would it start off in agony but then resolve into a painless state? He wondered if perhaps being numb was better than being able to feel simple things like pain and joy.
Dragging his cold feet behind him, Connor pulled himself over to a large boulder by the river bank. He watched his pale feet become blotchy and red as they prickled back to life. He grit his teeth as his feet were stabbed with needles in punishment for letting them become so cold.
He let his feet regain all of their feeling before searching for the boots he had haphazardly strewn across the river bank. He rolled his socks over damp feet before shoving them back into his boots. He felt his feet squelch with every step he took. It was an unpleasant, but bearable, sensation.
Connor walked back over to the boulder he was sitting on earlier, drawing his knees to his chest. He felt completely hopeless. He pulled out Evan's letter again, unfolding it gently. Connor realized that he and Evan had more in common than he had ever thought.
Evan was right. It wasn't going to be an amazing day or month or year. He and Zoe would never have the perfect relationship siblings should have. He couldn't ever find a way to tell her what he wanted to. Nothing he said mattered to anyone. All he did was hurt people. He spoke without thinking about his words and the power held behind them. Nobody would care if he just disappeared tomorrow. In fact, they would probably rejoice in his absence from the world.
Connor sighed. He didn't want to go home to the family he had so recklessly torn apart.
