This is my story. I can't hold back what I've said to him all those years ago. 

I was about to turn 17. I was entering my Junior year in Highschool and everyone was going through puberty. Plenty of hormones filled the hallways along with new friends, cliques, enemies, and judgement. It wasn't my time. It was all so wrong.

But I did it.

There's a saying that you can always make many excuses as to why you can't do or say something such as, 'I'm not having a good day' or 'I have to many things to do' but certain things just have to be done.

Praaptip Praaptip Praaptip Praaptip Praaptip Praaptip

Rain hits his back as he races towards school, the water sinks into his clothes, hair and shoes, weighing him down causing him to drag his feet, tripping over himself and landing on the cement. He blacks out for a quick second, blurred vision, spinning world, watching the raindrops fall onto the pavement next to him in slow motion, they show no commotion so he lays still. Staring in awe at the thousands, perhaps millions of drops hitting the same fate as he had just met himself except he was different than all of the others, he was still conscious, still moving of his own accord yet-

"You okay?"

His mouth lay open as he turns his head towards the stranger feet away from him, under his cozy umbrella, letting the raindrops fall around him, as though a cloud of sunshine was following him around. 

"Uh. . ." 

The stranger stood there awkwardly and looked around as people walked by, not witnessing his fall. He blinks, still lost in the thought of raindrops. 

"Oh. Ah- w-well yeah, yeah."

He nodded several times but the rest of his body was lost in the clouds above him, unable to move as his stare crossed back to the stranger. 

"Would you, like some help?"

The stranger closes in to him and reaches out a hand. The raindrops become more furious, pounding against the umbrella. He grabs onto his hand, mouth still agape as the stranger's grip is strong in the over powering storm.

The stranger half-smiles briefly, "Where are you headed?" His umbrella shifts over so the rain hits his backside more and covers the other from the rain. 

"I'm headed to school, I'm running late at the moment." He manages to say it louder than the growing noise from outside of their cloud. 

"Here" the stranger passes him his umbrella and steps away, "Take it, you need it more than I do."

"But-" The stranger had already began to walk away, the tears from above seemed to reflect off of him and onto the sidewalk, keeping their distance from every step he took. 

He held onto the soft handle of the umbrella, what a strange material, almost like putty or play-doh, easily molded within his palm, it fit nicely and he suddenly felt comforted although his helper disappeared into a wall of drops. He turned and ran, feeling more and more dry with each breath he took underneath his umbrella, people walked fast against his current and managed to stop him every once in a while until he managed to make it to the front of the school. 

Such a magnitude of education, bricks red as the sun, chrome that reflected the sun by ten fold and windows that invited the shine inside although on most days, the interior was freezing and unforgiving to bare skin. The few trees that lined the perimeter of the school shook and obeyed the winds every command, bending to each side till it seemed as though they might split. He did not focus on the trees, he only focused on the rain, the sharp pain he felt when he entered the front doors, the rain embedded in his clothes as the froze to his body. The air indoors filled his lungs as he frantically ran to his class, out of breath when he burst into the classroom. 

"You're late Mr. Lay" the words pierced his head, "I expected far better from you. . . Clearly I was mistaken." Suk Minseo was his Advanced Placement English 11 teacher. He wasn't the kind of man who would slow down if you didn't understand a topic. You were to obey and follow his instructions, there was nothing else said about it. 

"You've interrupted the class Mr. Lay. I don't know why you decided to show up anyways. You've missed half of the class, you're drenched in rain and" he breathes in deeply, "not to mention that horrible smell you've brought in with you." His eyebrows furrow in disapproval, his lips before an indifferent line was now curved downwards, "I suggest you get out of this classroom." 

Lay opened his mouth for a brief moment but clenched his teeth together, picking up his soaked bookbag, "Yes sir. ." He looked down from Mr. Suk, or , as the other students in school would call him, and dejectedly opened the door, feeling every gaze in the room perforate little holes within him. 

What's wrong with me? 

He bee lined it to the bathroom and began to dry himself off at a hand dryers. He stared up at the ceiling-

Highschool. Best years of life huh?