Dear Scott

Chapter One

I took a clean notebook out of my backpack and set it out on the table, ready for the new semester. “A free write,” my teacher began, “is something I will have you do often in my class. You should write in your notebooks everyday, expressing your thoughts and feelings about the world around you. To many of you, this may seem ridiculous, however, for this particular class, this will remain my only requirement throughout the semester.What you write about is completely up to you, I will not grade you on content, or read passages if you ask me to skip over them. I will grade you based on consistency. Are you writing each day? Or are you blowing off this assignment? Your grade is completely in your hands.” 

“I feel like this class is going to get boring fast,” Amy whispered as she leaned in next to me. My thoughts were anywhere but in that room as the teacher talked at us for the first half of class. I glanced over at the window, the midmorning sun dancing in and onto the tables across from mine. Taking a deep breath, each of my limbs slowly relaxed. I wished I could be a beam of light, flowing freely within the gaps of space, to illuminate the world around me, to be anywhere but there. 

"Let's start your first prompt right now! I will put a word up on the board for today, whether you choose to stick with it or not is up to you. I'll do this each day to perhaps inspire pieces for those of you who are new to writing free of requirements and limitations from your teachers.” He shuffled over to the board and picked up a stubby-looking piece of chalk and wrote ‘apple packers.’ "You can use them together, you can use them apart, or you can choose to ignore them entirely. Go!" He waved his arms enthusiastically as he tossed his chalk towards the chalk board. 

The students around me began flipping to the first page in their notebooks, bending the covers back for the first time. I made eye contact briefly with my english teacher, his raised eyebrows telling me it was best if I opened my notebook and began writing. The faint sound of pencils scratching thoughts and ideas across fresh lined paper filled my ears as I sighed and lifted the cover of my notebook.

There was only one thing on my mind, one idea that I could possibly write about. I wanted to tell Scott exactly how I felt, but I couldn’t anymore; at least not to his face. My brain had been drowning in thoughts and emotions, all revolving around Scott for weeks. He and I hadn’t talked in so long, nothing was the same anymore, and I felt the strain of our friendship each time I thought about him. I slowly flipped the cover, folding it around the back and placed the book flat on the table, my emotions for the first time ready to be released from the jail of my mind that had been guarding them for what seemed like forever.

Dear Scott, 

We had this talk a while ago 

Before this change occurred

You promised me and I believed

But then that promise fell through

People hold your soul

In the palm of their hand

You trust them not to drop it 

“You can be that with me, I’m here for you.”

A lie, you've dropped me, friend 

I felt as though I was on the ground

Beneath layers of this cold, lone winter 

You had let me go and watched me tumble

As your promises fell through

But yesterday, for the very first time