From: Felicity Drew.

To: Felix Hunter.

I've never thought about how dumb you were until we actually decided to work on that stupid essay.

Mr. Mathews told us to make it about an artist who made a huge impact in history, and because we both were huge fans of Assassins Creed II, we chose Leonardo Da Vinci because he helped Ezio in the game.

You were so excited to replay the game and get information in a 'cool and fun' way.

It was all fun and games until your dumb behind wrote facts about Ezio instead of Leonardo.

Not gonna lie, I had a field day. Even if you wasted our time by saying you'll do the research. I just couldn't stop laughing the entire time as you typed up the essay over the phone.

Luckily, we did finish it that night. Thanks to mom lending me her tablet so I can listen to e-books and give information about the guy we were actually supposed to write about.

I remember how smug you sounded the next day. Apparently, you had not submitted a single project in the time that year, and I don't know how you got away with it.

Frankly, I don't know how you got away with a lot of things. Since the moment we got near the school you said you were skipping.

I was angry and sad and confused that you were skipping. I wanted you to do good in school and to go far in life. Until you mentioned the English test that I forgot about.

Then, I basically begged for you to take me with you.

I was not surprised when you made a big deal about it. Sorry, I mean a huge deal. You couldn't stop talking about how the moment should be marked in history since I was willingly asking to hang out with you.

And that, I, a teacher's pet, forgot about a test and was skipping school for it.

It was then that you found out I was actually failing and that teachers only didn't say anything out of pity. Thanks for not telling mom, by the way.

Anyways, I can never tell you how excited I was when you told me we were going to the playground. I thought it would be a fun little outing where nothing would ruin my mood.

Until you did.

Damn, you were a curious boy.

I guess I just didn't see it coming at that moment. The last thing I would've expected you to ask me while I happily swinging on the old swings was why I never took my shades off.

You kept making me promise not to get mad and not to kill you before you asked, and then you started apologizing right after.

I tried to avoid the question by denying that I never take my shades off, but you were too observant to believe that.

I still couldn't tell you why. I still couldn't talk about what happened. But, I gave you half an answer.

I told you that someone had hurt me because of them, so I didn't like people seeing them anymore.

I was so confident in my answer because no one managed to convince me that what I was doing was wrong. Mom didn't want to push me, and I hated my therapist for telling mom that it was better for me to stay at a normal school for the rest of the year.

You did, though. You unintentionally managed to convince me otherwise just by a few words.

'Doesn't that make them win? You know, If someone does something bad to you, they're obviously doing it with the intention to hurt you. And if it's bad enough to make you hate your eyes, then it must've been with the intention to break you. Therefore, when they see the aftermath of what they've done, it gives them a sense of pride or satisfaction. They know what they did was successful, and that they put you there.'

I remember what you said word by word because those words kept replaying themselves in my mind for days.

It already felt weird showing my eyes and skin with my sight, because everyone always made fun of it. Now with my sight gone, it was a whole other story. I couldn't see how anyone was looking at me, or what they might be thinking. Most importantly, I didn't know who was looking at me.

I didn't know how to answer you, and I didn't. I'm glad you didn't force me to talk about it. Instead, you asked if I was alright to stay by myself for a few minutes so you could get us some Hot Dogs.

I was going to go with you, but then I realized I could take it as a chance to act independently again. I was outside, far away from home and school, and alone. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it made me smile to myself. It made me happy.

It made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I can slowly fall back into the person I was before I became who I am today.