Felo-de-se And 2 Weeks. Brallon (DISCONTINUED)

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The brunette scurried down the now dark and empty halls of his school. He held 5 letters each having different names on them. A roll of tape was dangling off of his frail wrist with too many scars to hold. He was grateful none of his friends had lockers on the the bottom floor. It was always too cold for him down there. He stopped moving when he reached his first locker. He forgot his friends locker number was 11. He used to joke that his locker was lucky and when they needed something important they should come to his. He frowned at the memory when they used to all joke like that. He rubbed his face with his hands trying to get the tears to go away. He quickly ripped off a price of tape and folded it, sticking it to the back of the letter and sticking it to the dark blue locker. He slammed his forehead against it and screamed out and sobbed. Was he about to go through with this? Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course he was. No one cared enough about him anymore. Would they even care to read these? He slapped the side of his head and left that locker. He needed to put the rest on the other's lockers before he was caught. He kept walking down the hall. A brightly colored sign was on the wall for the spring dance. He never got to get asked to go, not like he ever would have been. He got to the next locker. His friend had scribbled out upside down stars all over it so he could mess with his now ex girlfriend who was very religious. Why did he have to remember everything? He ripped off a piece of tape and folded it aggressively, slamming it on the locker. He flipped through the 4 remaining letters and found it. He stuck it to the tan tape and walked off immediately. He found the next one and did the same. And the next. And the next. He was finally going to go through with this. He took the roll of tape off and dropped it in the trash bin next to him. He stepped back and pulled out his phone and checked his texts. As he guessed, nothing from anyone. No, 'hey where are you?' or 'how is everything going?' nothing. Nothing at all. A stray tear ran down his cheek and onto his broken phone screen as he turned it off. He was about to walk off down the hall outside the school when he heard someone walking after him.
"Brendon?"
Shit.