Posted Five Minutes Ago [TreeBros/Cevan]

~School~

I haven't told any one at my school about the blog, and I know that none of them have found it. If they had, I'm sure they'd spread it around, turning my odd hobby of writing about my sad life into a big joke. I wouldn't be able to walk past anyone without a comment being made, or someone quoting me with a mocking tone. I'm convinced this Connor isn't any of the Connor's I know of- they wouldn't have sent a seemingly genuine email expressing concern to me. And yet, knowing this, I still felt nervous as I waited at the bus stop. There was still the possibility that it was a sick joke, and my class is awaiting my arrival to tease me. After years of being invisible, I wasn't ready to be seen, for this reason at least.

As I stepped onto the vehicle, I glanced up briefly to see if there was anyone looking at me. No one was, but I wasn't out of the water yet. The journey seemed to take three times longer than usual, despite my best efforts to concentrate on the music playing through my headphones, instead of on what might me waiting for me. 

The bus shortly squeaked to a halt, and the wave of students leaving swept me out into the entrance of the building. I started to walk. No glances were being made in my direction. No whispers or snarky comments were being made. I was completely invisible to the people around me. 

One minute, I'm worried about being forced into the spotlight, the next I'm disappointed that the day was going to proceed as all the others before it. Standing by my locker, I looked at the students that surrounded me, their conversations collecting into a loud but muffled cloud of sound. It's suffocating, but I can't move to escape it. 

I slide my phone out of the pocket, a little red notification hovering above the email app. Being the only notification on the page, it sticks out. I open the application, the email being from the same guy as before.

Good morning Evan,

I hope you have a good day today. You can get through this :)

-Connor

A rather generic email, but thoughtful nonetheless. Regardless, the thought that this is some horrific prank was still prominent.

Hey Connor,

Thank you. Same to you. Have a nice day :-)

-Evan

I added the nose to the face to make it seem like I put a little more thought into it, even though it's obvious that I just fed his words back to him.

The rest of the day dragged, the constant fear that I was going to turn around and someone who claimed to be Connor was going to be stood before me, holding screenshots of my pathetic posts, and my last days at this school were going to be filled with teasing. I tried to ignore it, reasoning with myself, saying that the chances that the mystery Connor was actually from my town, let alone from my school, was very slim. The internet is a vast place, and Connor is a common name. 

~

Evenings are the worst for me, especially in winter. I'm left alone in my house with only my thoughts, the early darkness that comes with the season swallowing the building. I'm alone in my head, completely numb, unable to feel, not sure if I'm actually alive. Thought's flood around me, saturated images playing in my mind, managing to highlight the worst parts of my day and of myself in general. It would be around this time when I'd write a blog post and express my feelings, but I couldn't tonight. I had more pressing matters at hand. A different kind of post to write. 

I opened a blank document. Should I really type this out, or should it be handwritten? I suppose it's only a draft, so I can write it out when I've explained everything I want to explain. I typed out the first line, before immediately deleting it. My mind completely shut off. I had thought about what I was going to say prior, but actually stringing together the words proved more of a challenge than I had previously thought. A notification snatched my attention away from the document. It was him again.

Good evening, Evan.

I was just wondering how your day went? Was it better at all? 

-Connor

I suppose I just have to ask him, as this is becoming more concerning. On one hand, it's nice to think that there's someone out there who has thought about checking in with me, but there's another part of me that is curious as to why he wants to know about me. Is he trying to get me to say something embarrassing, to use it against me?

Connor,

These emails you're sending me are thoughtful, but I can't help but worry that you're intentions aren't completely kind. I don't know why you read my blog, or who you are. I'm sorry if this sounds rude.

Sincerely, Evan.

I winced at my use of sincerely. Perhaps ending it like that made it sound too formal, if the rest of the contents of the email didn't already do so. Regardless, I hit send. It took a mere ten minutes before a response arrived in my inbox.

Evan,

I'm sorry to make you think that. I'm sorry that I'm not just sitting back while you kill yourself. I'm sorry that I care about someone's life.

-Connor

My stomach clenched as I read those words. What had been thoughts in my head had been written out by another person. I read the email again, and then once more. His anger laced each digital word, his sarcasm apparent. 

Sorry.

I sent the one-word email. It's a word I use a lot, so much so I think it's probably lost it's meaning. 

I received no reply that night. 

~~

I changed the perspective, whoops. I prefer writing in first person, idk why I chose third in the first chapter. Oh well, hope you enjoyed!

-TWC