Rickard is a dich was still scratched on the door as I walked into school. You don't know the half of it. Students were looking at me strangely, but Anita had warned me that I would imagine that others were consumed by what happened. She said that most people didn't have the energy to care that much.

We had talked a few times over the Christmas break. After the thing with the razor blade, I decided that I could use someone to talk to. Anita was amazing. She listened when she needed to ...