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Two or three letters later
Saturday 4/21/90
Dear Harry
I truly don't know what I would do without your friendship tonight and I wish you were here with me more than ever.
Don't panic, Mom and I are okay and I'm not in need of healing in any way or not really, the skin on my wrists is a little sore from the ropes but it'll be fine in a day or two. Mostly I'm just feeling humiliated and embarrassed and angry and I'm really upset that there's nobody here I can turn to or trust.
The football team and their hangers on have taken their bullying to a whole new level. Don't worry I'm not seriously injured and I don't want to go over the details but I was totally humiliated, and at least half the school was watching and not a single person said anything to try to stop them, or even stayed to help me after they'd left. They all just left me there tied up to the goal post, naked, it took half the night to get myself free. Literally, I didn't get home until after midnight. I don't know what they did with my clothes, luckily I'd left my books and my bag in the library so hopefully they'll still be there, but I had to walk home in the dark covered up with a pair of dustbin lids I stole from one of the people who live near the school. Luckily Mom was having a bad day and hadn't even noticed that I hadn't come home from school on time.
Of course, she hadn't eaten or taken her evening meds either so I had to wake her up and fight with her to take them. I feel really guilty, I've never been glad Mom had a bad day before but I know she would want to go to the school and complain about what happened if she knew about it and it would only make things worse, not to mention the risk that knowing I was attacked would set off her paranoia about letting me leave the house again. If child protective services found out how sick she is I would be taken away from her and I couldn't bear that. And then I felt even angrier that they'd made me glad Mom had a bad day and that they'd made me feel guilty.
I don't know how I'm going to find the courage to go back to school on Monday and face them all, but if I don't go then they will have won, they will know they've broken me and I won't give them that. It's only another couple of weeks until the summer and none of them will be at Caltech, in fact nobody else from our class got into any Californian University, thank goodness. Though there are a couple of girls I heard talking about moving to Los Angeles to try to make it as actresses, they're not the people I really don't ever want to see again.
Academically I've done everything that I need to do to graduate but the school has a policy that students must attend eighty percent of their classes to pass and graduate no matter what their grades are. I've made a calendar of the days until graduation on the wall in our hide out and I'll check each one off on my way home, another day survived.
There was a school shooting in Texas last week, a sixteen year old junior who'd been bullied until he snapped and took his father's semiautomatic to school and killed a teacher and half a dozen students. Tonight, I understand what he was feeling, if I didn't have you to befriend me, understand me and support me when I feel alone and misunderstood by everyone here, and if I had another five years of this ahead of me or this level of bullying had been happening for the last four years, I'm afraid that I'd eventually snap too. I must admit I daydream sometimes about getting back at them all, but I don't think I could do it with a gun, maybe a bomb or poison gas into the gym changerooms after practice, it would be easy enough to orchestrate. Don't worry, I won't do it! I'd rather embarrass them somehow than kill them. If only there was a gas that dissolved clothing and left the lot of them naked without a change of clothes after before school training. I can survive another 23 school days. Writing to you has helped a little, it's good to have a friend to share things with.
Your Friend
Spencer.
A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed followed or favourited this story for your support.