Chapter 29

Heather’s Letters Blog Entry

Draft: October 13th

Until today, I thought I was the most miserable person at Orchard Valley, but now I know there is one soul more miserable than me. And I won’t stand for it.

At first, I truly was the most miserable. Everyone looked at my scar. Everyone scorned me. They said things I dare not repeat here. But my scar healed, and I started to fade into the background. Students’ interest in tormenting me seemed to fade with the scar.

This isn’t to say I fit in. Not at all. If I were to log on to the Internet right now, I’d give myself about forty seconds before I found a malicious picture of myself, or a sick comment about me. In the hallways, students still mutter under their breaths. But the thing is, I never fight back. I don’t. I never give in to their anger. In the hallways, I simply place my finger on my scar, nod, and move on. And online, I never respond. With no reaction from me, everyone finds something more fun to worry about. And there’s always something—a juicy piece of gossip, a big game, something more important than me.

In fact, my courage—or at least, the courage in me that others see—has helped my reputation as a tutor in these past weeks. Mom drops Ruby and me off early so she can get to work, and I use the time to help others. I’ve even helped writers on the newspaper staff (though I’d bet they’d never admit it to anyone!). The other day, even Principal Elders muttered something to me in the hallway. He had gotten positive feedback about the essay I’d entered in the writing contest for Ms. Phillips, and he muttered a word of encouragement to me regarding my writing.

I’ve even started tutoring students a few days after school. Some of the parents heard about my writing ability, and of course they read about my story in the paper and heard about it on the news. They felt sorry for me and offered to pay me to tutor their kids after school. I only wish the students I tutor wouldn’t ignore me—or worse—when they see me at school. I’ll admit it’s hard to keep a positive outlook when a student I tutored that morning laughs as her friends berate me in the hallways.

But sometimes I feel it’s less about my writing ability and more about my scar. When students come to me for tutoring, it’s not just writing they need help with. They use that as an excuse, but much of the time the real reason they see me is to talk. They tell me things they wouldn’t feel comfortable telling anyone else. They know that, because of my scar, I’ll never tell another soul. They tell me about family problems. Problems they have with their friends. With their bodies. Anxiety. Fear. Frustration. And listening to them talk about their problems made me realize something. Everyone has problems. Growing up has never been easy, not for anyone. I realized something else, too: I didn’t have it so bad. My problems are on the outside, sure, but there are plenty of people with their own invisible scars just trying to make it from day to day. My problems are just the only ones to be made so outwardly visible.

But seeing Adam torture himself like that has made me realize that Adam doesn’t see life this way. He doesn’t see that everyone has problems. There’s trouble in any life. He thinks I’m the only one. He thinks he’s the only one. He’s in a downward spiral, and he’s falling fast. I don’t care whether he never talks to me again. I only want him to get better and stop hurting himself. I’ll help him shed my fiend of a neighbor before it’s too late. There’s nothing to make me forget my troubles in life like helping someone else. And there’s no one in need of more help than Adam Hollowcast.

And that is my new purpose in life.