Dear _______, [TomTord]

Prologue

They say that the most quiet people are the ones with the strongest voices. They struggle alone without anyone noticing.

Thomas was a quiet one. Almost always. He would be found walking along the sides of the long corridors of the high-school.

It wasn't bad to him, either way it didn't attract much attention to him. Even during lunch, he was found sitting underneath a tree, writing in his small little book.

Noone knew what it contained but it peaked everyone's curiosity whenever they saw the male jotting down "notes" underneath that shaded area.

The bell had rung for lunch time, which its duration was 45 minutes. Thomas walked out of his classroom and went outside looking for that familiar spot that he had enjoyed to stay at.

Once he reached there, he saw the school cafeteria and how many students piled inside, waiting in large snaked lines for their tray of what everyone called "garbage".

The school lunch was awful but they all ate in order to stay hungerless.

The black eyes male placed his textbooks on the grass and his backpack as well. It leaned against the large tree trunk in satisfaction.

A large wave of wind blew into the British face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the gust of wind, which flailed his hair a little as a response.

He reached inside his ska designed bag and took out a small notebook that was covered in a dark blue that he enjoyed looking at. He grabbed a pen and clicked it in order to start writing on a new and empty page.

Dear good friend of mine,
Its been ages since we last spoke to each other. How is it being 'home schooled' and not have to deal with all these morons? I bet it is amazing. He told me to tell you that he said hi. I haven't told him yet you know. I am not sure if I should still keep it a secret...it would be the best if our friend knew. He has been wondering where you were and I just told him that you were still on that trip. It's been years...I wont be able to keep up the secret my friend...

Until then,
Thomas-

He looks down at his small note and wondered when they would ever see this.

'Maybe in another time line Thomas. But not in this one...'

He looked back to the old ones he had written. None of them did he ever show them to anyone. He felt a small tear slip out of his eye, leaving a small trail behind as it slid down his cheek.

The same gust of wind came back from earlier and hugged Thomas as if to relieve him of his pain. He had noone to tell this to. He was truly alone...

<Timeskip to after-school>

Walking home wasn't as hard as it seemed to sound like. The British male could look at the small nature that surrounded the well known sidewalks that he had memorized since as a child.

He remembers holding his friends hand and walking down these same sidewalks, observing the small wildlife and sometimes even taking them home.

He smiles at the memory of them both taking a snail home and nurturing it together. The next day, they'd set it free with large smiles plastered on their childlike faces.

He looks down the street to see his friend, Matthew, with his hoodie covering his ginger ale hair. He was carrying a brown bag in his left hand, tied with what appeared to be a rope.

"Hello Matt! What are you doing here at Granger's home?"

The mentioned ginger looks over and sees the pineapple hooking onto his backpack with his two hands as if his life depended on it.

Matt crosses the road and reached the brown haired male. He shows him the brown bag and unties the bag to show him stacks of pounds.

The spiked haired male estimated around £2,000 (2,789 in USD) was in the bag.

"Why do you have so much money? What did Granger do?"

Matt tied the bag ones again and looked over at the house.

"Granger owed me from the fight last week. We made a bet against two fighters and I won. He didn't want to pay up so I had to go and get it myself."

Tom chuckled and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Talk about a sore loser. I wouldn't have even done the bet in the first place. How much blood was there by the way?"

"Alot. You should come next time pineapple."

"Sorry Ginger Ale but I have school to worry about first. See you around Matt."

"You too puffer fish."

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Names is something that I have been called since I was a child. They don't really bother me much since I usually come up with one for them.

I've been called 'pringle' almost all of my elementary life. It's strange whenever I think about how that offended me for a while. But then after, I just went along with it and made names for my friends such as 'Blackcat' or perhaps 'Gingersnack' to name a few.