Angsty child time!

No, not Cassidy. This time, it's William's turn! This chapter was only slightly annoying to write because every time I would write William's it would autocorrect to Williams. Fun times.

Reviews!

Lydia-From-Limmet: F in the chat for Goldie ;( And smart thinking on the healthy food stuff, though I just realized it would be kind of gross to feel the textures and not taste anything…ew, soggy bread.

MoonTheMagical: Ohh I didn't even think about the fire thing, that's true. Though I still think I'd rather lose that sense than all the others, pretty much for the reasons you put.

SomeRandomRobo: Don't worry about being late lol. Desks r very annoying to put up, I got one last year and it was a pain. Definitely worth it though, I could barely fit into my old one! I think it was made for kindergarteners lmao. And slushies r amazing, I want one now.

Song: Haunted by Laura Les - slight headphone warning, she screams alot in the chorus. This song is a bop though.

Word count (figured I should start putting these) about 6k…finally breaking out of my 3k streak. Trying to bring that average up!

Enjoy!

Chapter 91

Everything Is Haunted

There was a dead moth in the fluorescent light.

It had been fried to a blackened crisp. Seduced to the glow like…well, moths to a lamp, only to get caught and have its moon-white wings clipped, corpse forever imprisoned inside a big, bright box.

Kind of like William in his seat at his elementary school.

His teacher, Miss Simmons, was yakking on and on about some dull geography thing, so boring he almost cried. And William hardly ever cried. Looking around the classroom at the other ten-year-olds sitting in their plastic blue chairs, it appeared everyone else felt the same way. Two blond boys three seats in front of him were engaged in a sneaked match of Rock, Paper, Scissors, while a girl with auburn braids two desks to the right was completely passed out.

William drummed his fingers on the desk, eyes unfocusing and blurring. His teacher was so boring. She never laughed at any jokes, never tried to make things easier on the class, and always gave them piles of dull, dull worksheets for homework. She wasn't even that pretty.

"Psst. Will. Pass this note to Darcy, and don't peek!" Mia, his desk neighbour to the left asked him, her frizzy light brown curls like a cloud around her head. William took the note, unfolded it, and began to read.

Dear Darcy,

Don't you think William is so-

"Ugh! Gimme that, you daft worm!" Mia snapped loudly, snatching the note back from his grasp and clutching it tightly, as if he might try to rip it out of her hands. Everyone turned to stare at her.

"Miss Murray? Do we have a problem?" Miss Simmons asked, raising a thin eyebrow and peering at the small girl sternly from under her thin-rimmed glasses.

Mia shook her head, flushing under her smatter of freckles.

"Really? Because it seems you were snapping at your neighbor there."

"But ma'am, he read my note!"

Miss Simmons turned to face William. "Mr Afton, did you read her note?"

"Yes ma'am, and it contained some very inappropriate language. I'd tell you all about it if we weren't in class." He crossed his arms, smirking at the fuming girl beside him. Payback, worm.

"Well, Miss Murray, why don't you see me after class, and you can write a two hundred word essay on the importance of polite language in a school setting. Now, back to what I was saying.…"

When the teacher returned to her book, Mia shot a furious glare at William and swiftly tossed the note into the glossy-haired brunette Darcy's hands, who caught it and read it with a giggle, sneaking a glance at William.

William rolled his gray-blue eyes, leaning back in his chair with folded arms. Girls were so dumb. He was glad he only had one sister, even more would drive him mad.

"Pass it on," Darcy hissed into his ear, handing him a crumpled up note.

"Can I read it?"

"Duh! Just make sure to tell Mia to pass it on!"

Now having permission, he unfolded the note and scanned it.

If any of you get Scotland, I get to trade because that's where my nan is from! If you don't comply, I'll get my big brother to break your scrawny necks! -Darcy

Which country will I get? Huh? William, too lazy to write a response, haphazardly passed the note to Mia, and refocused on the teacher. Getting a country sounded mildly interesting. He'd love to rule over a whole chunk of land! He sure hoped he got Russia. That was the biggest in the whole world!

"So, to combine our Geography unit with our English class, our school has partnered with schools across the globe to start a pen pal unit with kids from all around the world. The countries available are: Australia, Switzerland, Canada, Brazil…"

And just like that, class was boring again. It wasn't that William hated English, quite the opposite. He loved to read, and writing was enjoyable too. It was just that last time they'd gotten a creative writing-type assignment, he'd written a story about a squid that fell out of its tank and slowly choked to death for eight and a half pages until it's grief-striked owner found it, and he'd gotten the guidance counselor called on him. Of course, that wasn't the only time he'd gotten the guidance counselor called on him, but he'd rather forget the whole mind-numbing experience.

School always did that, confining his creativity to a cramped box with a set of guidelines and zero freedom. Which was why this assignment, while interesting-sounding at first, was sure to be a complete drag in reality.

He blinked the haze from his eyes, just then noticing that Miss Simmons was handing out envelopes to the class.

"Mia, you get Scotland." She handed the freckled girl a green envelope, and Darcy shot her former best friend a murderous glance. William whistled under his breath, turning his attention to the teacher in front of him. Please be somewhere cool, please be somewhere cool…

"Mr Afton, you get America." She placed a purple envelope coated in so much glitter and puffy stickers that it made William's eyes bleed. Oh well, America wasn't the most exotic place, but there were still some interesting things about it. Like Disneyland, or mustard pretzels. Pulling his reading glasses out of his uniform pocket, he squinted at the name, half-buried under the decorations.

Henry Emily. Odd last name, but maybe that was common in the US. William shrugged, unpeeling the unicorn sticker holding it closed and pulled out the postcard. The glossy photo was of a small boy with nicely combed light brown hair and big, round glasses, smiling on a sunny swingset next to a serious-looking girl with the same glasses and short haircut, only her hair was chestnut instead of tan.

William flipped the card around and began to read the swirly, sparkly handwriting on the back.

Dear William Afton,

Hello from the United States of America! I'm so excited to hear what it's like in the UK. Or is it England? Or Britain? You guys have so many names! Do you drink tea? Do you ride horses? Are you a prince? My mom says that a queen lives there. Have you met her?

Anyways, I'm sure you'll answer all of that soon. Now, onto me! My name is Henry Samuel Emily, and I live in Hurricane, Utah, with my parents and my sister Jenny. Everyone calls her Jen, but I call her Jenny. Sometimes. If she lets me. Technically, she's the same age as me, but we aren't twins. I was born in January, and she was born in December. It's called Irish twins, which is funny because my mommy says that our family is from Ukraine and Greece, not Ireland, and we aren't twins.

Me and my sister go to Saint Margaret's School, and it's pretty nice, though our family doesn't really believe in God. I think that there could be one, but I don't really mind either way. Some kids live there, which I think would be kinda cool, but me and Jen live with our parents. Jen is friends with this girl named Clara Schmidt, but I don't know her very well. She gives me the cookie part of the Oreo's after eating the icing, though, so I guess she's nice. In our school we have to wear uniforms. So do you, right? It's kinda itchy, but it's green so it's okay.

My favourite colours are green and orange, my favourite season is fall, and my favourite animals are dogs. I wish I could have one, but my daddy's allergic to the hair. So I asked if we could have one of those hairless dogs, but then my mommy said they were ugly. Then Jenny said I looked like one, and my mommy agreed. So now I'm sort of confused.

A small laugh escaped the corners of William's mouth, and Mia turned to smirk at him. "The psycho finally feels emotions."

"Shut up." William deadpanned, still reading the letter.

My least favourite food is eggs. My sister and parents love them, but I hate the texture. All slippery and chalky, ew!

Uh oh, my teacher says we have to hand these in now. I've been working on this all night, so it's kinda long. I'm looking forward to getting your letter, William Afton!

From, your new pen pal, Henry.

William lifted his gaze up blinked, brain lagging as he adjusted back into the real world. Around him, the class was dead silent, the only sounds being the scritching of pens of paper. How had everyone read theirs so fast?

And William realized, after a quick peek at Mia, Darcy, and the kid in front of him Dan's papers that everyone else's letters were merely one or two bland paragraphs of "My name is _. My age is _. I like to do _." Henry's letter had been so…what even were the words? He seemed energetic, that was for sure. Definitely talkative and the extroverted type, but there wasn't any mention of friends besides his sister and maybe that girl Clara.

Another difference was the obvious - so many stickers and so much glitter. Everyone else's cards were the same - solid colour envelope, simple postal stamp, blue or black ink on lined paper with maybe a doodle in the corner going for individuality. Henry's was practically oozing with personality.

A smile spread over William's face, and he picked up his worn-down yellow pencil and began to write.

~lll~

A minty-smelling dead body lay on the table when William walked through the door frame into his house.

His mother waved a gloved hand at him, her black curly tufts tied up in a bun as she sprayed peppermint perfume in an eye-watering aura around her. Beside him was his oldest sister Alicia, identical to her mother except swapping blue eyes for brown and no mole on her left cheek.

"Hey, love, I'm a wee bit busy at the moment. Dad's making salad and fish for dinner, and Vincent's in the backyard if you'd like to join him." His mother called. Alicia just stared, holding a razor and a bottle of shaving cream like they were weapons against a dragon.

"That's okay. I've got some homework to do." William replied, shouldering off his backpack and hanging it on the hook in-between three dark blue backpacks and one in the same rich violet shade as his. Daring a peek at the body, he found that, to his surprise, the man was young. He didn't have a youthful face, with smile lines and crinkles by the eyes, but he didn't have thinning grey hair or any age spots. It was hard to tell because of the thick shaving cream around his lower face, but William guessed maybe thirty or forty. He was usually an accurate guesser.

"Ew, Mum, William's looking again!" Alicia complained, unable to hide the disgust in her voice. "He's such a little creep!"

His mother fixed her with a stern look. "Now Alicia, be nice. William's allowed to use his eyes. Besides, maybe he'll take over the family business someday!"

William snorted. "Yeah, I'd love to live in a morgue with five kids and only have enough to live upstairs because I take advantage of grieving families and charge ridiculous amounts for funeral services…oh wait, I already do. Silly me."

The pair stared at him, a mixture of anger and annoyance on their faces.

"Sheesh, well so-rry for speaking the truth." William huffed, raising his thick, dark eyebrows. Jesus, everyone in this family is so sensitive…

"Well, it smells like dinner is served. Why don't you go and help your big brothers set the table?" His mother asked, her voice cold and clipped. "Now?"

"Whatever," William scoffed, stalking up the staircase from the downstairs morgue into their upstairs home. It wasn't much, they had a small kitchen with a dining table and a living room next to it with a green paisley couch and a recliner and the telly stacked on top of a pile of tawdry romance novels. Next to it they had a bathroom as well as the public downstairs one. Plus four bedrooms, one for his parents, one for Alicia, one for Kenneth and Oliver, and one for William and Vincent. Despite how much his little brother annoyed him sometimes, he thanked God every day that he didn't have to sleep with his snoring older brothers. The demolition in the city sounded like heaven compared to that.

"Why would you say that to Mum?" Alicia asked as they pushed through the kitchen door. "You know how guilty she feels making everyone, like, live in her dream."

"I don't know." He quickly changed the subject. "Who's the dead guy?"

"Ugh, you're so weird. At least Mum doesn't get excited when new bodies come in." Alicia scoffed, grabbing a handful of forks from the silverware drawer and setting them down on the table.

"Hey, Leesh! How was the big test today?" Their father, a large man with fluffy brown hair and a dusting of freckles across his face and arms asked, ruffling his daughter's hair.

"Got a C plus," Alicia replied as she spooned a helping of salad onto her plate. "It was pretty tricky."

"What was it on?" Kenneth asked from the table. His dark hair was rumpled and sweaty from his prodigy-level tennis practices that William's family made suuuuch a big deal over.

"Multiplying fractions."

"Those are really easy," William pointed out. "We did those, like, two months ago. Why are you still doing them in eleventh grade?"

Alicia's face went bright red. "Shut it, twerp."

"Be kind to your brother, Alicia dear." His mother pushed a forkful of salad between her red-painted lips.

William helped himself to a small portion of salad and plain fish in batter and took his seat at the table. Beside him, his little brother Vincent was building a lettuce catapult out of his bendy plastic spoon.

William cleared his throat. "So today in class, we started-"

"I decimated the debate team from Calderstones today." Oliver cut in, folding a napkin neatly in his lap and smirking smugly. "And elbows off the table, William."

Angry fire burst in his chest, but he removed his elbows from the table and sulkily poked at his salad. Bitter and mushy, two adjectives William did not want to use to describe his dinner.

"That's great, Ol! Future politician here, eh?" His father laughed jovially, clapping Oliver on the back with a gigantic palm. His brother forced a smile back, rubbing his shoulder with a mouthed ow.

"I was talking," William muttered, but nobody paid any attention to him.

"Well, I got a rather large paycheck for the new customer today," his mother announced. "A velvet square coffin and bouquets of white lilies to be buried with." She placed a lettuce leaf on top of a bite of fish and ate it. "It's really a shame. The poor man was only thirty before he died of cancer, bless his soul."

William perked up. "What was his name?"

"Tyler McLusky, I think. He's got a lovely mum who's helping to organize the whole thing. She's a wedding planner, ironically."

William giggled. "That's funny."

"No, it isn't." Alicia snapped. "Someone died. Don't make jokes about it."

"You're so boring," William sighed, resting his cheek on his fist. "It's not like the dead guy cares."

"Well, it's disrespectful."

"Well, your face." William mimicked, sticking out his tongue at her. Their brothers and father watched them, eyes darting back and forth like spectating a ping-pong game.

"Now now, children, let's settle down." Their mother chided. "William, what did you do at school today?"

Finally! "Well, today in school we started doing this project where we get these pen pals from all over the-"

"-World? Yeah, I did that too." Alicia butted in, crossing her white-button-down sleeved arms.

"Same," chorused Kenneth and Oliver.

Anger bloomed inside William's chest, clawing at him from the inside with thousands of pinprick thorns. Why couldn't he have one thing, just one thing for himself that wasn't a hand-me-down from his siblings, something to make him stand out? Alicia was the only girl, and the oldest at sixteen. Kenneth was some sort of fourteen-year-old tennis genius. Oliver had suspiciously blond hair for having two dark-haired parents and was the exact stereotype of an honor student, all ironed clothes and straight A's. And Vincent was the cute tag-along third grader who'd never hurt a fly and could legit get away with murder if he really wanted to.

"Ugh, I hate this! I'm going to my room!" William yelled, standing up with his chair screeching against the beige floor.

"William! You can't leave until you've finished your dinner!" His mother yelled after him, but he ignored her calls and stomped down the hallway to his room.

Dear Henry,

I could start this letter off by saying something along the lines of: My name is William Afton. I have three brothers and one sister. I live with my mum and dad in Liverpool, England (or whichever name you'd prefer for the country - there's a lot). My favourite colour is purple, my favourite animals are rabbits, and I love to read.

But that's boring, isn't it? Truth is, I was going to write something like that initially. But your letter was something different, something not as copy-and-paste as what I was going to do. I don't know what it is, but you've intrigued me.

William paused, setting down his pen. Was he using all the wrong adjectives, coming on too strong? Would Henry think he was weird? He shrugged, deciding to leave it in.

I've just left dinner (gross salad and annoying siblings don't mix well). Do you ever fight with your sister? You two seem like you'd get along. I've always wanted a twin - months apart or not - you get a built-in playmate from day one (or month nine).

My dad is a truck driver and my mum is a mortician, which consequently ends up with my family living in a morgue. Cheerful, I know. We've got a body downstairs sleeping in a freezer right next to the ice cream and pumpkin pie. Mm, yummy.

Off topic, but sometimes I think I hate my siblings. I know I'm not supposed to, but then they have to go and take all my attention and be all selfish and just plain annoying, like Alicia's laziness and Vincent's pestering. And then my mum has the most unfair punishments!

One time, I hit my brother Oliver in the eye with one of my dad's tools and my mum got so mad that she took my favourite book and sold it! He was only in the hospital for two weeks, and the surgeries were completely free! (I've heard healthcare is very expensive in your country. That must drag.) Anyways, I managed to steal a copy of the book from this cute little bookstore down the street, so I guess it was fine.

I hope I don't sound too lame. No friends, annoying family, book lover - yeah, I don't exactly sound like some mysterious bad boy from across the world. Hopefully you weren't too bored reading this.

Looking forward to your next letter, Henry!

-William

William leaned back in his chair, fishing around in the bin beside him and he pulled out a sheet of shiny owl stickers. He didn't actually like owls, but Vincent was a mini-kleptomaniac and liked to steal stuff from his room, including all of William's good stickers. So owls in every shade of the rainbow would have to do it for now.

He unpeeled each sticker with care, taking time to smooth them down and make sure they didn't fold over. Then he unpinned an awkward school picture of himself - all foggy glasses and too-long bangs - from his bulletin board and attached it with a paperclip. Finally, he tucked it inside a lavender envelope, writing down his school name and address and sealing it with a gray owl holding a cookie. Perfection.

And then perfection was shattered by his little brother bursting through the door, eyes bugging out of his head. "Will! You gotta come quick! There's a dead bird outside!"

~lll~

Well, it sure was a dead bird.

William wasn't exactly sure what else he expected.

"It must've died after hitting the glass!" Vincent exclaimed, pointing to the window in front of them. The bird lay still on the driveway, gray feathers scattered around it with its yellow talons stretched out and neck twisted at an odd angle. Yellow ochre eyes were stretched almost too wide, beak open in a silent scream. Its feathers shone golden green in the last few rays of evening sunset.

William crouched down into a squatting position, analyzing the body. "Vince, can you get me a stick?"

Vincent scrunched his brows together, puzzled. "But why do you want a-" And then he realized. "Eww, gross! Why would you even wanna do that?"

"Because I want to see what's inside." William said matter-of-factly. "Now, get me a stick or you join this bird."

After digging around in a nearby prickle-bush, Vincent emerged with holly leaves in his raven tufts and a skinny stick in his hand, presenting it to William. "Here. Just don't do anything yucky."

"No promises," William replied, flipping the bird over and examining the ruffled gray feathers and thin worm of intestine that lay exposed. He tilted his head to the side, squinting. Should've worn my glasses.

"Eww! Is that its stomach?!" Vincent shrieked, clutching his own stomach as if someone was going to rip it out of him.

"Small intestine, actually." William corrected, poking the tip of the grimy stick through the gray-red loop.

Vincent gagged, bending in half like a doll. "I'm gonna barf!"

"Please don't vomit on me. This is a new white shirt."

"You're so gross!" Vincent complained as he walked back towards him, sticking out his tongue. "I'm telling Mum!"

Without turning around, William shot his arm out and grabbed Vincent's wrist, squeezing until his brother shrieked. "You tell Mum, and I tell her how you traded her jade earrings she got in China to that weird mascot guy at Kenneth's games for a half-melted Jolly Rancher."

Fear clouded Vincent's eyes as he attempted to twist out of William's death grip. "I won't tell! Now lemme go!"

"Fine." William let go, still keeping his attention fixed on the dead pigeon. Other than Alicia's old dog when he was four, he'd never really gotten to see an animal corpse up close. There was something grimly fascinating about the moment a living thing becomes an object, or in this case, vulture food. He could understand his mother's dream of becoming a mortician, however macabre. "Now get lost. You're distracting me."

"Okay. Jeez," Vincent muttered, rubbing his wrist with the cuff of his navy blue longsleeve as he backed away towards their house. "...freak."

~lll~

"Your face has a spot," Mia commented, rather unhelpfully, pointing her finger too close to William's cheek. Her nails were painted with a clear coat mixed with hot pink glitter that stood out against her pale, freckled finger. William had a strong urge to bite it off.

"My mum says spots mean you're mature. You must be very mature, Will-y." Darcy murmured, batting her long, dark eyelashes and resting her cheek on her fist.

"Don't call me that." William turned back to his incredibly interesting task of winding a hair elastic around his finger and unwinding it again.

"Okay, Will-y." Darcy's dark eyes were lidded as she scooted her chair closer. William moved his own away.

"Alright class, listen up!" Miss Simmons called, clapping her hands for attention. Beside her, a spindly lady with hair the colour and texture of straw held a large burlap sack. William's heart rate increased, and his hand shot up. "Yes, Mr Afton?"

"Are we getting our letters back?" He could hardly disguise the eagerness in his voice.

"If you had let me finish, yes, we are." Miss Simmons said, a tinge of amusement in her tone. She gestured to the blonde lady beside her, and she began digging through the sack, handing out letters with envelopes of blue and cream and gold.

William could barely sit still, bouncing his leg in anticipation as the lady passed him an envelope the colour of egg yolk. The envelope had a simple stamp of the American flag, a sticker that read 'good vibes' in loopy handwriting held it shut. Oddly enough, it smelled like…bacon?

"Now, don't open your letters until the entire class has received theirs," Miss Simmons instructed. William, deciding that the entire class was stupid, tore open the letter and began to read.

Dear William,

First, sorry about the bacon stain. I wrote this during breakfast cause me and my family had a board game night yesterday. I love bacon.

Anyways, thank you for the kind letter! You seem so interesting, I can't wait to chat more.

My class is so noisy right now, this kid Judd is screaming Disney songs and his friends are cheering him on, so sorry if I seem distracted! My days yesterday, let's see...My sister got a perm, so now her hair's all curly. I got 16/17 on a math test.

Uh, yeah. Not much has happened, haha. I'll write again tonight and see if anything happened since then.

Okay, it's tonight! So my sister Jen had her friend Clara over, and we all played hopscotch on the sidewalk and drew funny pictures with chalk (though Jen kept stealing the green) and then my mom made us all gingerbread cookies and a berry smoothie. Gingerbread is my favourite flavour EVER. Here's a picture of Clara that I took with my mom's instant camera →

William turned his eyes to the side and…wow. Taped to the page was a blurry photo of a dinner table setting, lit up by a golden afternoon glow. A beautiful girl with spirally ginger-blond hair swept up in a bun held a gingerbread cookie, mouth open mid-laugh with her apple-green eyes that stood out against her lavender lace tank top sparkling with mirth. A few stray curls framed her head past her bangs, tiny freckles dotting her pale face like constellations.

"Ooo, who's that?" Dan jeered, snatching the photo from him and analyzing it. "Looks like Will-y has a giiiirlfrieeeend!"

"Give it back, you hedge-born lumpish barnacle." William snapped, clawing it back and shoving it into his navy blue sweater vest pocket, careful not to wrinkle the delicate portrait.

"You have a girlfriend?" Darcy gasped. She squeezed her letter so hard her nails tore holes through it. "Like, a girl who's a friend or a girlfriend? Do you like-like her or just like her? Answer me!"

"Uh…" William paused, sensing an opportunity. "Yes, she's my girlfriend. She's tall and blonde, and she likes to play sports." He wasn't completely sure if two of those were true, but hopefully that would get short, dark, unathletic Darcy off his back.

Darcy crossed her arms with a sniff. "Hmph. She sounds like a female dog. I think you should break up with her."

"No, no, we're madly in love." William sighed, playing with the small object he'd kept in his pocket to study later.

Mia caught on to the object and sunk her nails into the side of his neck, grabbing it from him while he was distracted. "Ooh, what is that? Is it gum? Are you chewing gum in- KYAAAAAAAH!"

Mia recoiled with a shrill shriek, face white as a sheet. In her palm, she held the tiny bone-white skull of a bird.

Specifically, a pigeon.

"Christ, calm down." William scoffed, grabbing it back before she could crush the skull into dust with her grimy little hands. "It's just a bird."

"MISS SIMMONS! MISS SIMMONS!" Mia wailed, flinging her hand in the air. "WILLIAM HAS A SKULL IN HIS POCKET!"

~lll~

"And that's how I ended up here. I didn't even get to read my letter! So can I go now?"

Mr Gerbrant raised his graying eyebrows, leaning back in his chair and leaving his fingers together. "You tell me."

"Um. Yes?"

Mr Gerbrant gave him a Look.

"What? Stupid questions get stupid answers." William snapped, bringing his knees to his chin and curling up into a ball.

The counselor turned to the side, gingerly picking up the skull Miss Simmons had so rudely ripped from William's hands. "So, where did you find the bird skull? This is quite the specimen."

"I found it in my backyard, big deal. Lots of animals die."

"Did you just find the skull? Or a body?"

Well, William knew which one he was supposed to say. However, class was so ridiculously boring that he might as well tell the truth. "I took the skull from the body. So crazy."

Mr Gerbrant's neutral expression didn't change. "Your mother is a mortician, correct? However unsanitary, I don't think operating on a bird really counts as 'crazy'."

"I used sanitizer."

"That's good."

A moment of silence. The cat-shaped analogue clock ticked. Various certificates hung framed on the wall, glowing silent screams of how excellent of a guidance counselor he was.

"William, are you nervous right now?" He asked carefully.

William snorted. "No offense, Mr G, but you're not exactly intimidating."

"Hmm." Mr Gerbrant furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. "William, can you name the last time you felt scared or nervous? Or if you can't remember, name something you're afraid of."

William glared at him suspiciously. "Why? Are you going to use it against me?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm just curious."

"I…can't exactly remember." William said slowly. "I don't know if there's really anything I'm afraid of."

"Hmm." There went his annoying, judgement hum again. "Alright."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, you may leave now." His wrinkled thumb and forefinger were held under his chin, eyebrows furrowed as if he was still puzzling over something (him, probably).

"Ooooh-kayy." William huffed under his breath, silver-blue eyes wide. What a weird counselor that guy was! He'd been to other ones, sure, but they all asked idiotic questions like 'how are you feeling' or 'what does this image make you feel' or 'why did you try to eat your teacher's hair', silly questions like that. But at least they made sense! Of course I've felt fear, William thought, rolling his eyes. This guy's more insane than everyone in my class apparently thinks I am.

"Welcome back, Mr Afton." Miss Simmons said slowly as he walked back into his classroom. He didn't want to, but there were truant officers swarming the school after his previous escapades. "I trust you now understand that it is wrong and disturbing to show such grotesque things in a classroom setting?"

"Mm-hmm." He slid back into his seat, crossing his legs. And when the teacher had gone back to teaching whatever it was, William reached back into his desk and pulled out the letter, placing it in-between the pages of his textbook so it would look like he was working.

She's really pretty, isn't she? Really nice, too! Though I don't have a crush on her, she's more like another sister to me. Not that I need another one. (there was a little eye-roll face drawn next to it)

Now, I know I probably don't sound this way in my letters, but I'm really terrible at making friends. I was also living in California from grades one to four, so I missed out on making a lot of friends that way. So it's honestly so nice to be able to talk to you without being in person, because I'd totally make an awkward mess of myself!

Hope you have a good dinner tonight. I'm having Hawaiian pizza! I love the pineapple SO MUCH.

From (your friend?)

Henry :)

A/N

My friends wanted to write some stuff so here you go:

I loooove babes and boobs ( ｡ ‿ ｡ )( ● ∀ ) -mixsii ;)

Babies should burn in hell -jacob :0

And then they all had a happy little bags here since yes wowHAHAHAAHHA -dragon ;-;

Anyways.

I was looking forward to writing these! William is one of my favourite characters to write which might make me an angsty emo :')

Question/Challenge: Do you believe in ghosts or the paranormal? I honestly think that they could exist, my friend just got an Ouija board so we're going to test it out. Hopefully we'll communicate with ghosts!

(ghost if ur reading this hello I can't use emojis but I'd use that pleading face one)

Have an amazing day/night!

~ghost (real)