When Gunner Samson Leaves

letter - two

august 12th
5:49pm

     dear, quincy,

I'm by the river, the ground is wet from the shower that had just occurred. This, therefore, means that my hair and clothes are also soaked. Honestly, this has to be the only spot in Mallory Creek that isn't drowning in toxicity and suffocating me to death. I sat on that old, battered-up bench near the river's bank. My notebook was placed on my foot, for I was currently sitting with my leg on the other, half apple-crossed. As the sun began to beam down onto the gurgling brook, the cacophony of chirping and cicadas buzzing was brought into the scene. Nature's rhythms were balanced chaos. The taciturn gurgles coming from the ground, the shrieking chirps of the robins and sparrows in the trees, and the annoying buzzing of the cicadas as they rested on the bark. I couldn't think of anything more beautiful than this. This tranquility that seemed as though the world wasn't a terrible place. That all the bad things that happened the moments before were just nightmares. It was like I could hear Leslie Hunters, rising from the water as though she was the Lady of the Lake, and talking to me. Her soft, delicate whisper invading my ears with peace and hope. 

A brutal stab in the heart. 

Of course, you wouldn't understand why this matters. Why would, Quincy Chase, care about Leslie Hunters and Gunner Samson? How are those two names even said in one sentence with each other? After all, Leslie and I were from two different worlds. You saw Leslie's gift, didn't you? You saw how she had the power if she wanted to, to take down your pathetic empire.  You saw the fury in her eyes, the fiery spirit that lingers out through her soul. But, no, your ego couldn't handle it. It couldn't handle the risk of their being a threat to your tyranny. Leslie Hunters could've exposed you for who you are, Quincy Chase. Instead, she decided not to. She didn't say a peep about you wanting to go to Julliard for a music career. She didn't utter a single, solitary word and you still blamed her. You blamed her and made her feel guilty, manipulated her into thinking that she was at fault. When, in reality, it wasn't her fault at all. 

You knew that, but you weren't satisfied. You needed someone, other than you, to be humiliated. Someone that the student body of Mallory Creek High would continue to keep their eyes glued to and forget about you. So, you and Catrina devised a rumor. You told everyone that Leslie Hunters was a slut, and that I was the one that stole her virginity. You told a lie that everyone had the audacity to believe. You decided to ruin the one good thing that I had in my life. 

You indubitably wanted to see my downfall. You were Cassius and I was Julius. A foolish ruler of the throne. A pawn in your game creul game of chess. You wanted to tear me up and see me writhe in pain. Every time when I was in the boys' locker room, I could see the sly look on your face as I took those Prozac pills.

Just because I was silent doesn't mean that I was a fool.

-- G u N n E r