A flash of fear and nervousness pass though many eyes as they get handed a paper and pencil. I look at Aaron and see he's exchanging whispers with Seth.

A freshman shakily hands Aaron a paper to which he snatches and gives the poor guy a spine chilling glare.

Awe, he's felt the wrath of Aaron Knight. I stifle a laugh and mouth 'sorry' to the pale faced, fear stricken freshman. He scurries away and I slap Aaron's shoulder. "He was about to pee his pants." I snort in a unladylike way. Screw ladylikeness, life's to short to care.

"They all do when they come within two feet of me." He shrugs carelessly.

"Touché." I nod.

I sit back and stare at the blank page. I rack my brain for something, anything. But nothing comes to mind.

I glance over at Becca and see she's writing furiously with a concentrated face. I bite my lip and focus on my paper again.

After a long and hard thinking session, I finally decide what to write.

Sometimes I feel like flying up to the sky, leaving all my worries behind.

I smile in satisfaction and fold the paper. "Psst, are you done?" Becca asks and folds her paper as well.

I nod my head and pass her my paper and she gives me hers.

I open up the secret holder,

I have a fetish of watch old cooking shows over and over again.

I press my lips together to hold in a laugh and pass her the paper back. "I like yours." She says with a grin.

"No, I like yours."

"Had to get it off my chest." She shrugs and leans back. I glance around the room and see many students either sitting nervously or concentrated on what they're writing.

I peek around Aaron to see what he's hitting down but there's to paper in his hand. I tap his shoulder gently,

"Where's your paper?"

"Under my foot." He says in a hushed whisper.

My jaw drops open. But before I can respond,

"Okay ladies and gents! Let's get the papers up to the stage shall we?" The headmaster says and clasps her hands excitedly. We grouchily pass down the folded notes that may hold secrets of the century into the box that gets taken up to the stage.

"Amazing! Now we'll read some out loud." She says and glances happily at the large amount of paper in the box. I can hear most student take sharp breaths, myself included. She closes her eyes and picks one out, reading it out loud,

"I hate my life."

Another,

"I get bullied every day."

"I hate my best friend."

Another,

"I hate looking in the mirror."

"I can't sleep without pills."

So on,

"I'm gay and if my parents find out then they'll kick me out."

More,

"I go to sleep not ever wanting to wake up."

"Life isn't all about money."

I look around at all the neutral faces, none giving away who wrote what. The headmasters face is a mix between pain and disappointment. She obviously wasn't expecting these type of answers.

I lean into the chair and tuck my hair behind my ear.

Just thinking that all these people who wear happy faces each day wrote these just means so much.

Aaron didn't write anything but if he did what would he write?

Huh, whatcha know? I click my tongue.

We're all just a bunch of sad rich kids.

Thanks for reading x not the best but I've been soooooooooooooooooooox100000
busy.

Thanks for reading x not the best but I've been soooooooooooooooooooox100000busy

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