A week ago, when I walked into school, I heard something that I had never heard before.

Silence.

I'm not kidding. Every single person inside that building was silent.

And staring.

They all lined up and just looked at me. They edged away from me and practically clung to their lockers as if I would contaminate them or something.

They all looked at me… until I looked at them because then they'd find something more interesting to look at, like their feet or their hands or their friends.

It's because of you, you ass. I hope you're satisfied! Now everyone thinks I'm some kind of crazy person.

I walked up to Z. I know you hate Z but I figured that if anyone would be normal, then it'd be him.

"Hey. Did you do the geometry homework? I think I got the last bit wrong, do you want to go through it before class?"

However, he just stared me through his fringe – I agree with you now. That fringe does look ridiculous on him.

"Kimi… I got somewhere to be." Without another word or a glance, he hurried off in his stupid combat boots.

What a moron. You're right about him.

I couldn't take the staring or the silence, so I drove home. I know that running out of school is wrong but you try sending hundreds of teenagers into silence. It's not fun!

I went home and slept for most of the afternoon. That's all I really do these days. Sleep.

It's so incredibly boring, but you know that. You'd think of something exciting and fun for us to do.

Maybe we could go to Splash Mountain. We haven't been there since my fifteenth birthday!

What had Chuckie said again? "Oh, that's just for stupid kids."

Please, he was the one who enjoyed himself the most.

Chuckie's sort of… drifting. He keeps himself busy by working. I swear to God, that's all he does. Dad and Betty are going crazy, they keep telling him that he isn't eating enough or sleeping enough or… doing anything else. He shrugs them off and says that there are things that need to be done.

So, congratulations, you're best friend is going to overwork himself!

Phil's being typical Phil, although he's being louder than usual. He's being more disruptive than usual. He'll make stupid jokes that no one laughs at. He'll say things that are unnecessary cruel. He'll charge around like a five-year-old and make a mess. He pulled the fire alarm at school and hasn't been back since (although, none of us have really).

Sending your other best friend into a life of delinquency. Nice one, T!

I wish you'd come over. It's so boring without you. Have I already said that? Sorry.

Lil's like Chuckie, she's been keeping herself busy. She made a scarf yesterday.

No, I'm serious. A scarf. A multicolored scarf.

She made it.

Lil.

Can you believe that? I don't know why. She just said that she thought it was neat.

Neat.

Lil said 'neat'.

What is happening to the world?

I've barely seen Angelica and Suzie; they haven't come back from college much. Although, whenever I do see them, they scoop me up in huge hugs. I've seen Angelica Pickles cry properly, thanks to you.

The parents have been affected almost as much as we have. They don't really say anything, except give us smiles and suggest for things to do. They spend a lot of their time with your parents, giving them hugs and encouraging words. Your parents are really… quiet; I guess is the only word.

Now, the one that you're really interested in. Dylan Pickles.

Jesus, Tommy, I wish you'd come over just so that you could see what you'd done to your own little brother.

He's thrown away anything that is loosely related to aliens, which is 95 percent of all of his belongings. I watched him from the twin's house. He dragged about nineteen sacks of alien-related things out of the house and dumped them by the trashcans.

I half-expected to see him going into through them later and taking them back but no. He didn't go near them. Lil told me that when they took it away in the morning, he was watching from your window.

I haven't seen him since. He's pale and withdrawn and never leaves his bedroom – except to throw all of his stuff out. Your mom and dad have sent in about fifty therapists but he won't even unlock his bedroom door.

God. I miss you. I've said that before, haven't I? I don't care. I do.

I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I miss the way that you tease me senseless. I miss the way you hug me, holding me so tight. I miss the way you unconsciously fiddle with my hair, twirling strands around your fingers.

I miss your stupid jokes. I miss how you outwitted the teachers. I miss how you know how to cheer us up. I miss how you always know how to compromise. I miss how you always fix our problems. I miss your stupid little habits.

I miss how I love you.

Tommy, how could you have left us? Why? Why are you being so selfish? You've left us here to pick up the pieces whilst you're gallivanting in paradise.

It's not fair.

Why did you do it when we just started out?

Just as we went public with our relationship too!

I miss the stolen kisses in the janitor's closet or making up stupid excuses to Chuckie and the others. I miss the way that you'd smile at me and I'd know that that smile was just for me.

Tommy. Just come home, all right?

I can't forget the last time I saw you. Lying there in your bed with your pale face and sunken eyes. You promised that you'd get better. You promised that we'd go to London one day, just like we always planned.

You promised.

Guess what, Tommy? You've broken that promise. You've always been the one to never break your promises and now you've broken the biggest promise of them all. You left.

I hate you.

You know what, I do hate you!

Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you realize the pain and grief that you've left behind? How could you do that?

I wish you were here, just so I could slap you.

And then I'd hug you tight and never let go.

If I had known…

God.

If I had known that the time in the park would be the last time that I'd see you happy, then I would never stopped hugging you. Never stopped kissing you. I'd never pull my gaze away from yours. I'd keep you with me and never let you go.

I wouldn't let you get into your car and get hit by that stupid drunk driver. I'd never have let the hospital team operate on your for hours and assure us that would everything would be okay.

I would never have left your room to go and get you a drink and leave you alone.

You didn't deserve to be alone.

It's not fair, Tommy. It's not fucking fair.

I'm sorry. I know that you hate bad language.

Today is The Day. The guys are dressed in penguin suits and the girls are dressed in identical black clothes.

It's so boring.

You'd have hated it!

I don't know if we're going to get through this Tommy. I really don't. Whenever any of us – meaning the group - see each other, we argue. Surely you knew that you were the leader? The one who kept us together?

We're falling apart without you.

Someone's coming into my room. It's Chuckie. He's telling me to get up. He's telling me to get dressed.

He's turning on the light and I blink at the sudden brightness.

I suddenly notice that I've been sitting in darkness for a week. Ever since I ran out of school. I haven't changed out of my pyjamas. I haven't even moved from underneath the bed covers.

My curtains are drawn across the window, blocking any potential light.

Chuckie's shaking me and I realize that I'm facing away from him, curled into a tight ball.

He's shaking me harder, telling me to get up.

"Come on, Kimi. It's time to leave. You need to get up."

I tell him that I don't want to go. I suddenly realize that my hands are scrunched up and my fingernails are digging into my palms.

I uncurl my fingers and feel a worn, ripped photograph in my hands. You're smiling up at me.

"Kimi!" Chuckie repeats, shaking me once more, "We need to go. It's Tommy's-"

His voice breaks.

I realize that my neck is stiff so I lift it. I've been in this position too long.

His face is damp and my brother doesn't look good.

"Kimi." He only manages the one word before the rest of his sentence is drowned out.

My arms ache but I throw my arms around him and hug him towards me. We sob against each other for goodness knows how long.

I can't even spit out a single word because my throat is too dry.

I hope you're happy.

You're gone.

And I'm missing you so much. So much.

My chest feels heavy and tight and I can barely breathe. My heart is broken, literally. It's barely pumping. My cheeks are stained with tears.

My body feels numb but my brain… my brain feels so tired. So tired, all the time. There's this pounding going on in my ears, bouncing off my skull. It hurts.

The thought of not seeing your beautiful eyes and your charming smile or hear your carefree laugh again kills me. It actually kills me.

Chuckie's getting a hold of himself and he's trying to pull me out of my bed but I don't want to go. It's my sanctuary. It's the place where I feel safe. It's the place where I can forget.

Or at least pretend that I can forget. I can pretend that my heart isn't broken and that I'm happy.

I can pretend that you're still with me. I can pretend that I'll see you later. You'll slip your hand in mine, mutter a joke in my ear and we'll laugh and walk off into the sunset. Happily ever after.

I find myself screaming at my brother. My throat and my eyes hurt but I need to tell him how I feel.

I'm screaming to the heavens.

Why can't you understand it? I want you back with me.

I miss you.

I love you.

So, Tommy, stop fooling around. Come home. Come back to us. Make everything better and cheer us up.

I don't want to feel like this anymore.

I don't want to hurt.

It's not fair.