[ WP ] As a high school English teacher , you have your students write in their journals once a week and collect them to grade . However , over the course of the year , the writing of one student has gotten more and more disturbing ...

**Week 1**: I was asked to write about my life, however personal or not. Apparently our teacher would like to see how our writing progresses- and just how well we can write about something real ( rather than fictionally ). I'd like to treat this as seriously as I do any other of my school tasks, so I'll be writing this as formally as I can. 
 
 Not much has happened thus far. Nothing much out of the ordinary. The usual routine of waking up, eating, heading off to school- getting back home and slowly unwinding for the next day- only to repeat it. I do n't have many friends, so my time spent alone is usually put to productive use. Family matters remain as they always have been- `` stay out of my life, I'll stay out of yours.'' Though when it comes to familial matters, who does n't have some sort of problems? 
 
 I'll leave my weekly writing assignment at that. If anything noteworthy should arise, I'll be sure to put the event down in pen and paper. 
 
 **Week 2**: My next writing assignment. Since last week, a lot has actually happened- too much to write about, in fact. Perhaps I should start with this lovely girl I recently met ( who will remain unnamed- we can call her X ). X and I have a few classes together... Being the shy outcast that I am, she approached me... Being of a similar nature, we decided to get together- trying to kill time alone-together, rather than simply alone. 
 
 She's a beautiful girl... Thin- the perfect figure, I tell her... A great smile that warms you up, instantly... A kindness that radiates before she even speaks... Something about her keeps me in a daze... It's hard paying attention to much else when my mind is on X, X, X... 
 
 **Week 4**: It's been 2 weeks since I've been at school. I'm beginning to question why I ever even returned. That time spent away was almost like a dream- just me and her, with nobody- nothing- around for miles... A little log cabin with the fireplace crackling- our laughter filling the toasty room, cuddled together in an endless bliss... And I've come to what- educate myself? 
 
 Well now, here I am. Back in society- where you're expected to be what you are... But what am I? *Who* am I? I'm really only myself with her... Even me writing this is just for you, Mrs. _____. I do n't care for any of this- the latest trends and fads- this grueling, popularity contest... Those fake faces talking about all of those other fake faces who are talking about all of those other fake faces... 
 
 Just writing this has me wanting to up and leave, right now. It's tempting- grabbing X by the hand and taking her away- for good this time... I can only hope she feels the same... Who knows: maybe this'll be my last assignment- for good. 
 
 **Week 6**: Ha. Goes to show- you can trust somebody, with every ounce of faith in your head and heart- and no good will come of it. That rotten witch... She left me broken- after everything I did for her. After everything she did for me... I do n't care about this school crap. I do n't give a damn about my grades, or my image- I only cared for that girl... 
 
 But I've learned something valuable from this. Women are evil... They will steal your soul and run- leave you empty, and wanting more, more- but you'll never get it... They'll have you in the palm of their hands, and then they'll crush you- simply to see if they can... X... I loved you... What happened??? We had such great times... It makes me want to leave it all behind... For good. 
 
 **Week 7**: Petty, so goddamned petty!? How could she be so heartless? Parading her new little boytoy around the school- showing just how capable she is of being a *great* whore! Grinding up on him- eyeing me as I pass, mockingly... I'm done with that horrible creature... She's but a memory in my mind- an awful, tainted memory... Still- why do I care? What is it that has me wanting her- even after she's left me so cold and on my own? 
 
 It's times like these where I wonder why I'm still living... I'm going to end it. I swear I am. If not today, tomorrow. You better believe I'm not coming back to this shithole- not this time. Not a fucking chance. I'm done. 
 
 **Week 9**: They all stare. `` Oh look at him- he used to be with her... They were so happy... What happened? He's become a wreck.'' 
 
 I'll show them a wreck. I hear them all- I see them all. They wo n't leave me alone. I'd always been a shadow to them- but now that the loony's got a great story to tell, they'd like to hear it... Even if it does n't come from the loony's mouth... 
 
 Never had a real friend. Never had a real love. My family is practically nonexistent. What do I really have, besides my thoughts and words? These words... 
 
 Perhaps you know me better than anybody, Mrs. _____... I have to apologize in advance... I never meant you any harm. I only wanted them to laugh loudly- to see- to *really* see, just who I am... This has been a long time coming. 
 
 If they'd put in as much effort to get to know me as they did in mocking me, maybe none of this would have happened... But it's too late. The bell's ringing now, in fact. I hear the voices and the shuffling of feet. Once it's done, it's done... This time- for good. 
 
 The show's about to start- and I can guarantee you, it's going to go off with a bang. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Certain words, places and names were changed or removed due to the coarse nature of the writing. These written notes were found on the desk belonging to the late Mrs. _____, along with her body, as well as those of 12 other students. Though it's difficult to say *exactly* why this tragedy occurred, it is thought to be the cause of an emotionally ( and mentally ) unstable boy, and what appears to be a teenage heartbreak. 
 
 One of the bodies was identified as the girl ( the subject ) being written about in these pages. 
 
 Another body was identified as the author of these notes.
