it's been nine years since i've written about you in my mostly unintelligible scrawl

indecipherable malformed symbols jammed together with no clear beginning or end

so that the teacher felt fit to make me read it aloud to prove a point

to prove that i hadn't actually written anything at all

and how the class grew uncomfortably silent until one girl said “I see why you did it.”

“it” being kicking another girl down the stairs and almost growling when she caught herself and took the steps two at a time with the intent of “show[ing] [me]”

someone was always wanting to show me something

usually a tightly clenched fist

she showed me how hard a locker was and how easily she could lift me off of the ground in her rage

i showed her that i had years and years of practice at not feeling things when i see them coming

i showed her that nothing (not biting or kicking or trying to push my thumbs into her eyes) was beneath me

and i made it clear, as she pinned me to the floor and a large crowd gathered around to chant nonsense, that she had better kill me quickly because i had every intention of doing permanent damage

because a few hours earlier she had dared to talk about you as if she'd known you

had dared to laugh and make jokes that are only funny when you're 13 and stupid while the very few people who really knew me scooted their desks closer than was allowed and gingerly pried an old pair of scissors from my shaking hand as i fought back tears and inhaled violently to keep my face clean

it's been nine years since i've written anything about you in my almost mad script

the letters long and painful to make and almost equally painful to make out

it's been nine years since i stood in front of the Gifted Class and swayed on my heels as i told them nearly everything

everything except how i killed you

i conveniently left that out

choking on shame and fear and sadness

leaving out how i knew

how you tried to talk to me and i wouldn't respond because i'd had a bad day and was holding the only thing i could control in a vice grip

how your questions sounded wrong

how your movements looked like you were almost being restrained

how i wanted to ask you to stay with me or take me with you

how you would have done whatever i asked because that was just how you were

how i blatantly refused to say anything at all even as the cold disquiet spread through my chest

how you told me you loved me and i didn't say it back until your car was only a tiny speck in the distance

how i never saw you again.