III

Chapter I

The bell rang. That woke me up. I was in the middle of algebra when I fell asleep. I got up from my desk and walked out into the hall. I staggered towards my locker. I put in my combination, 17-32-10. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. My name is Travis Hurtley, and this is my story. Travis time for school! my mom shouted. I groaned as I got up out of bed. I went to my dresser and threw some clothes on, not really caring if they went together. I walked to my door and went down the stairs. My mom was waiting for me in the kitchen. I smelled breakfast before I saw it. Bacon and eggs, my favorite. I sat down at the table and my mom shoved a plate to me. Eat up, got a big day today, my mom said. Thats right, I thought to myself. It was the first day of school. I started eating slowly, enjoying my breakfast and trying to silently tell my mom that I dont want to go. She just looked at me and went to her room. I finished eating and put the plate by the sink. I grabbed my bag that my mom left by the door and walked to the bus stop. I was generally quiet during the day. I didnt really have any friends. I just walked to the bus stop by myself and sat down on a bench the school put by it. People would start showing up and start messing around until the bus got here. I was the first one on the bus and took my usual spot, left side, 6th seat from the front. The ride to school was long and boring. We got there and I took my time getting to school. Everyone had to walk in and tell the secretary their name. After she went through tons of paper, you would get your locker number and your combination. I got locker 306 with the combination being 17-32-10. I put my things in my locker and went to first block. History, my favorite subject. I enjoyed it because I sort of outsmarted the teacher. I walked back to my locker smiling. Suddenly, I felt extremely tired and leaned against my locker. I tried to deal with it and just went to my second block. Spanish, my least favorite subject. My teacher doesnt like me. His name is Mr. Draves. He is bald and likes to wear leather jackets. For some reason, learning new languages came very difficult to me. In the middle of class, the tiredness hit me again. This time even worse. I barely kept my consciousness. The board was starting to get blurry. The bell rang and I got up and left immediately. I went to the bathroom and washed my face off. I looked the same and felt the same. I just ignored it and went to my next class, algebra. We were doing variable equations when I started feeling lightheaded. It got worse and worse up until the point I passed out. The bell rang. That woke me up. I got up from my desk and walked out into the hall. I staggered towards my locker. I put in my combination, 17-32-10. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. I woke up in the hospital with my mom crying in the corner of the room. I asked her what happened. She started mouthing words but nothing was coming out. Her sobs were drowning out the words. The doctor heard what I was asking and came over to my bed. Hey, said the doctor. I dont know how to tell you this

Just spit it out doc, tell me what happened, I said. Alright, a bomb was placed in your locker. If it wasnt for that locker door, you would have been dead. I laid back in my bed, shocked by what the doctor just told me. Who would do such a thing? The next morning I decided I was going to send 3 letters out to the people who I think did it. All asking them exactly the same question, just rephrased. Did you try to kill me?

Chapter II The first letter I sent out was to Jamie Launter, the school bully. He would be the only student to have the guts to do something like this. The letter went something like this Dear Jamie, I know you bully everyone in school just because of your problems. It makes you feel better, doesnt it? I know that you would be the only student who could do something like this. If it was you, Im in room 309 at the hospital, 2nd floor. Come get me.

The second letter I sent out was to Mr. Draves. He was the only teacher who hated me with a passion. All the other teachers help me with my schoolwork, but he doesnt. If I go up to ask him a question, it doesnt matter what the question is, hell say figure it out. Dear Mr. Draves, I know you dont like me. I know you hate me. I know you think Im a bad student. It isnt my fault, its yours. I ask for help and you push me away like some beggar on the street. I dont know what would cause you to go this far with your hatred. If it was you, Im in room 309 at the hospital, 2nd floor. Come get me.

The third letter I sent out was to the principle, Mrs. Kold. She has seen me in her office so many times for being bullied that she expected me once a day. Maybe her stress got to her, I dont know. But what I do know is that she didnt like having talks with me daily. Dear Mrs. Kold, I know that you have a lot of stress. I know that you didnt like having talks with me daily. You always said you were going to fix it but you never did anything. Those talks were getting worse and worse because of you not me. I dont know how you could have done this but if it was you, Im in room 309 at the hospital, 2nd floor. Come get me.