*Trigger Warning*

I've wanted to write this chapter for a long time, but I never knew how to word it, but here it goes. 

On October 21, 2016, a freshman at the High School where I live, passed away. Here's the story. 

A little while prior to his passing, this boy was caught illegally buying and using drugs on school property. He got into huge trouble with his school, his parents, and the law. I don't know the exact details of his punishment. 

Then, a little bit later, his girlfriend broke up with him. I guess this was the straw that broke the donkey's back, because on the evening of the 21, it was discovered that this young man had killed himself. 

I know I don't write that many serious chapters, but I just want to say that you should never do drugs, because just one time can ruin your life. But nothing is worth taking it. 

If you are suffering from drug or alcohol addiction, there are many people and organizations that can help you.

If you have considered or attempted taking your own life, please, from the bottom of my heart, seek help from a trusted adult, friend, counselor, or therapist. 

If you think nobody cares, think again. 

I know I often act goofy, or like I'm not serious about anything, but just know, that if you want to talk to someone about anything, feel free to message me any time. 

I know it's not a serious as some, but I was bullied once. There was a group of about four or five people and, according to my mom, they were jealous. They took my notes so I couldn't study for our hardest class, stole my school textbook and wrote all over the pages. 

They wrote things that, to my ten-year-old mind, were terrible. 

"You have been warned"

"You are ugly." 

"You are the dumbest person alive." 

Then they put it back in by backpack, right next to my borrowed textbook. I cried myself to sleep that night. 

I think that made me self-conscious, it made me afraid to talk about certain things to new people, it made me hate people laughing at me. 

But I talked to my mom, and she talked to my teachers, gave me locks to put on my backpack, and had an old friend look at my yearbook, where people signed, and the text book to find out who did it. The people who did it were the principal's grandson and his friends, so they didn't get in trouble, though. Today, one of them I haven't talked to in two years, two I am comfortable speaking with, and the other has just become that annoying person everyone dislikes just a little bit.   

Now I am a little more open, I say the first word sometimes, now, I feel okay being myself. 

I know a lot of people don't want to ask for help, because they think that will make it worse, but if you don't tell someone it'll get worse anyways. Parents, grandparents, teachers, that weird neighbor who has ten thousand turtles roaming around their house, they can all help you, you just have to ask. 

The problem won't get better if you don't acknowledge that it is there in the first place.