Letters From The Dead

Chapter 9

It seemed quite like I was avoiding every single person in the school. When I’d stepped out of my mother’s car Monday morning, I’d spotted Eric two hundred feet in front of me, talking to a large group of people we generally hung out with. I ducked down into a less-crowded hallway before he noticed me and made his way towards me. I’d hung up the video chat not too long after I’d confessed that Deidre was dead and ignored any attempt he made at trying to get into contact with me for the rest of the break. He obviously couldn’t even call or text me since Tyler had my phone.

Speaking of which, I needed that back. But I’d be damned if I was going to confront him. I think I’d rather take Eric over Tyler and Eric was pissed at me. Forget everything I said about wanting to be yelled at. I was terrified that Eric would stop being my friend. The silent treatment for even a week would not be beneficial to my slowly-declining mental health. I was so lonely all the time and I wasn’t even listening to my music.

I skipped going to my locker just in case Tyler was randomly going to be there even though associating with the broken girl couldn’t be great for the reputation. I kept my head down, watching peoples’ shoes instead of meeting their eyes. I would definitely have to go to my locker at lunch hour so I could get my shit for my afternoon classes. Maybe I’d go to the cafeteria and buy food and make sure Tyler was there eating with his friends. If he was, I would make a break for my locker. If not, screw my afternoon classes. It wasn’t worth having to face up to him.

God, when did I become such a coward?

My fingers literally burned with the need to check my email, but I merely drew my lip in between my teeth, ruining it to the point of no return as I sat down in my desk for my first hour, letting my face drop into my hands and making no effort at all to pretend like I was listening. I could feel my teacher’s eyes on me, but she didn’t question my behavior all through the class, instead choosing to politely ignore it.

After class was another story all together, however and I knew that I’d better sneak out before she caught—

“Miss Emerson,” My teacher bit out, her voice filled with concern. And I knew immediately that she was about to give me The Speech. It was a familiar one, but I hadn’t heard it in months.

“Yes?” I inquired, wincing when she beckoned me back into the room. I faltered, standing on the doorway with my back almost completely to her before sighing and turning around, walking as slowly as possible to the chair in front of her desk.

“Are you being bullied?” She asked bluntly, clearly trying to trick me into being honest by not wasting any time.

“No,” I said flatly, sounding a lot like I was lying even though I wasn’t being bullied.

“Because you can tell me,” She continued, completely disregarding the fact that I’d talked. “I want you to know, Halley, that I am not only your teacher. I am your friend. And as your friend, if you are being bullied, I want you to feel comfortable coming to me about it. We can take measures to end it.”

I stared at her. That was almost word-for-word the same speech I used to get from my English teacher in freshman year. Did they all have to learn it before becoming teachers?

“I’m not being bullied, Mrs Hecks,” I told her truthfully, rolling my eyes when she glanced above my head for a fraction of a second. “Honest. I’m not.”

She studied me, as if she would be able to detect untruth from my eyes before nodding a few times.

“Right. Good. Now you get on to your next class, Miss Emerson,” She said, going back to using my last name now that we weren’t ‘friends’ anymore. “If your Mr Bullock gives you any trouble, just have him email me.