The last day of 6th grade, 4½ years ago. Kalen Meine and I are pals. Kalen Meine stole me from my friends, I didn’t know. He had me under his manipulation. 4½ years ago, we did an awful thing. Our teacher was leaving. I liked her. NO, Kalen didn’t, so I didn’t? There was a box 4½ years ago. One of the parents made it. We were supposed to write notes of how much we will miss her. 4 ½ years ago Kalen had us write bad things. Horrible things. Irresponsible, shortsighted

That’s enough.

4½ years ago she read the notes at school, in front of all of us. Not at home like Kalen the almighty said. 4½ years ago She read all but ours out loud, for ours she looked at him and I, and for mine she said “Thank you, Steve.” .

I died 4½ years ago.

Today I study for Finals. I’m studying, I’m OK. He Instant Messages me. I don’t know him. He drops hints, I figure it out.
I am stunned.
I respond to his small talk, surreal. He hunted me down with google. I loathe him even more, his innocent small talk is just a mask. He thinks I still can’t see through it. I do and it hurts even more.

I can’t forgive the bastard. I could forgive myself for 4½ years, I don’t know if I do now.

Four and One-Half years ago...