Your name is John Egbert and you are positive that this isn't going to be a good day.

You walk onto the campus the next Monday in your favorite hoodie and immediately feel the stares. Your weekend had been spent with little to no interaction with the outside world. You barely left your room and when you did, you tried your best to avoid any contact with your dad. The only person you had talked to was Jade over that new app she sent you, which you found out was pretty decent. When Sunday evening had rolled around, you had considered not going to school the next day in an attempt to avoid embarrassment, but you didn't want to make your dad nervous, so here you are. You feel your classmates' eyes on you, but when you look up at them, they are staring at the person in front of them, not talking, not moving. Just looking. An eerie silence is draped over the halls wherever you go. You walk by classrooms with open doors and see the teachers sitting at their desks, pens in hand, blissfully unaware.

You pass by a group of boys who don't try to hide the fact that they are staring at you and you feel that that is worse. You pass them by, but you can still feel their eyes. Then you hear footsteps behind you and fear strikes you swiftly.

What if they try to hurt me? You think to yourself. You try to tell yourself that you'll be okay, there are teachers around, they wouldn't try anything. At least, it sounds like something reasonable.

You reach your locker and you notice that they have stopped following you. You look over your shoulder and see that they are still there, not staring at you anymore, just talking amongst themselves. You do see a few of them glance your way periodically and it makes you nervous about what they want. You hesitantly fiddle with the lock and your hands are shaking so much that you have to start over again. Once you finally get it to open, you find a wrapped box sitting there with a turquoise bow sitting on top. You grab it and shake it a little. You don't hear a noise from inside. You look back inside your locker to see if you can find any hint of who had left it for you and see an envelope. You grab it and place the box back inside where you had found it and tear the envelope open. You happen to glance back at the group that had followed you and you notice that more of them are beginning to throw looks your way and some of them were outright staring. You get a bad feeling.

You open the letter nervously and see that there is just a folded piece of binder paper inside. You slide the note out of its shelter and open it slowly, noticing the turquoise color of the lettering that matches the bow perfectly. You look at the letter and read it.

Egbert,

For when you wisen up a little.

Love, V :)

This confuses you more than a little as you place the letter next to the package. You reach for the package and hold it in you hands for a moment. Why would someone send me a package? You ask yourself, if it's related to yesterday... then maybe I don't want to know.

You stare at the package for a few more moments as you debate on whether you should open it. Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you and you tug on one of the corners of the bow. You are about to dig into the wrapping, but the harsh tone of the bell forces you to place it back inside in amongst the disorganized mess of books and papers and close the door, slamming the lock back into place. You walk down the hall and glance at the group of people who were following you earlier. You notice the disappointed looks on some of their faces, and that almost makes you want to turn around and throw the package in the garbage.

As you pass them, you hear them talking. You hear them say your name many times along with a few choice words. You pick up your pace as you grow more uncomfortable with their whispering. You continue to accelerate until you are nearly running down the halls. You almost run into a few of your classmates who shout angry comments at you as you continue on to class. You finally reach the door you're looking for and slowly open it.

The smell of the biology classroom hits you like a ton of bricks as you enter and you have to blink a few times to clear the tears away like every morning. You attempt to make it to your seat as quickly and quietly as possible, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, but of course you fail. Not seeing the foot of one of your classmates jut out in front of you, you run into it with full force. You flail your arms in a wild attempt to keep upright and you nearly knock over the skeleton model that hangs solemnly from his post. The classroom erupts with laughter and you can feel your face turn a bright pink color as you turn your head down and make your way to your seat, ignoring the names the other students taunted you with.

You sit down next to your lab partner who barely acknowledges your presence, he is completely absorbed in his phone as usual. You try to look straight ahead with your head held high, but the taunts your classmates are whispering at you...

Their whispering and your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Johnson' cacophonous voice shouting, "Alright everybody, settle down, settle down," it takes a moment for everyone to acknowledge his call for attention, but when he has it, he continues.

"Today we will be continuing with the lab we began yesterday," he threw a look at someone over my shoulder, "because of the delay yesterday," he straightened his glasses and I hear a deep rumble as the cause of this "delay" fondly recalled the events of yesterday, "we will be finishing today. Any unfinished work will have to be made up at lunch or after school," he pauses for the moans of the students who know that they will not finish during the period. He then continues, "Now if you would all please pull out your data tables, we may begin."

The rest of the period, when viewed from outside , appears quite normal, with the addition of an extremely clumsy boy thrown into the usual lab routines. But you are fully aware that every single person in that room, except maybe the teacher and your lab partner, is trying to trip you in one form or another and most of them succeed. Needless to say, the class period goes terribly and on top of it all, you get hardly any work done. You nearly break a beaker on multiple occasions which grants you questioning looks from your teacher. You do your best to avoid his eyes as much as possible, focusing on the placement of your feet and the task at hand.

Somehow, you survive the period, though you leave without that satisfying high that comes from a job well done, something you typically only can find after your biology class, and head to english.

The rest of the morning consists of mostly the same happenstances. People yelling at you in the halls, getting shoved into a locker during passing period, people whispering insults to you during class. You never get the satisfaction of your peers getting caught in the act, only a, "No yelling in the halls," or, "Please be quiet," when the teachers heard them talking in class. You muddle through the first four periods in a sort of haze, not really absorbing what your classmates are saying, but also neglecting your duties as a student since you are not paying attention during class either.

During lunch, you sit alone. And boy, you've never felt more alone in your life. The cafeteria is almost completely silent with only the hushed whispering coming from a few of the groups in the cafeteria. The tension sits in the air like butter as you sit at a table in the corner of the room with your back to the rest of the room. At one point, you hear silent laughter come from the table adjacent yours and you get a bad feeling. Almost instantly, you feel something hit the back of your head. You instinctively reach back to feel what it is and you can't say you're surprise to pull away your hand and see some strange combination of refried beans and rice that can no doubt be found in one of the burritos that the school system decided to feed you all today. You sigh inwardly.

You stand up and try to avoid contact with any living creatures. Taking your lunch tray with you, you leave the cafeteria with the sound of laughter on your heels and head straight for the bathroom. Once you arrive, you set your tray down on the floor, finding no other, more elevated, surfaces that are big enough, and turn the sink on. You grab a paper towel from the dispenser and soak it. You proceed to clean out the mess in your hair as well as you can manage. You try to clear your head of the hurt and embarrassment, you are strong, as you work; you are not really successful.

When you are satisfied that you won't find any dried bits of bean or rice in your hair later, you look over at your tray and decide to leave it there, your appetite ruined. You then realize you have to go back to the cafeteria to pick up your bag anyway, which you left like the idiot you are, and decide that you might as well take it with you. You grab the tray and head back to the cafeteria. Once you enter, you notice that bell must have already rung because the room was clear and the janitors and kitchen staff were busy cleaning up. You hastily throw your food in the trash, set down the tray and hastily go to your bag. You notice a note sitting on top of it and you take it in your hand.

Why are they treating you like this? What had you done? But you know the answer to that and it makes you hate what you had done all the more, hate how idiotic you had been, makes you hate yourse-

No.

You will not think this way.

You are stronger than this. A better person than this.

And, hey, kids are assholes. You are sure that this will blow over in a few days when they get tired of you or someone does something even more interesting.

It will all blow over...

With this new-found reassurance, you crumple up the note and throw it in the trash as you head out for the class that you are already extremely late for with your bag over your shoulder.

You pass through the rest of the day with your head held high. You still receive insults and people still try to trip you, but you take comfort in the fact that once they get it out of their system, they'll stop. You make it through the day with little upsets, cleared mind giving you a little time to think about something important.

He's not here today.

You would say he was sick, but you had never known him to even have a runny nose. So why wouldn't he be here? It was you who was the pariah, not him. It wasn't even his fault that all this was happening. Someone had just overheard what you two were talking about...

Despite the questions, you can't say that you're not slightly relieved. You aren't sure you're ready to face him just yet. The day moves on.

When the final bell rings, you throw your books into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. It makes a satisfying thump against your shoulders as you prepare to leave. Then you remember something. That package is still in your locker. Based on how the day has gone, you are not entirely sure that you should open it, but you had decided this morning that you would; plus you can't deny that you are more than a little curious.

You make your way to your locker, getting shoved a little as you go, nearly tripping a few times, and when you get there, you unlock your lock and swing the small metal door with chipped paint open and grab the package. You can feel eyes on you, but you don't acknowledge them. You reach for the paper and tear it off, revealing a clean, white box the size of your hand. You slowly, hesitantly, lift the lid of the box and stare at its contents with pure shock.

Somehow, you pull yourself out of the emotion and walk over to the nearest trash can, leaving your locker unattended for a moment, and throw the entire box away. You then walk back over to your locker and grab the note, slamming the door closed once your hand was safely out of the way and completely ignore the fact that you need books from there. You open the letter and read the oddly colored lines again.

Egbert,

For when you wisen up a little.

Love, V :)

Eventually, all you can see is

For when you wisen up a little.

And suddenly, it makes sense to you, because in the package, in that cursed box, there had been

A package of razors.

A/N: Hey everyone!

I hope you all enjoyed this one. I'm a little proud of it... but, well, yeah. :)

I want to inform you all that there WILL NOT be a character death! I'm sorry if you were looking forward to it, but that's just how the cookie crumbles. Maybe next time!

And thank you all so much for the reviews! It makes me happy inside!

-AJ3