Fragile

It is always the cliché of high school. To be popular, to make as much friends as you can, to be known. To become a someone. For some people, this would be an easy feat to achieve. If you are just normal, you can be one of those someones. If someone, anyone, knew the kinds of things that Jack Ernest liked, he would most definitely be deemed as not normal by society. Being someone in high school, it is not unusual for people to ask Jack if he liked someone, if he liked any of my classmates. He does like someone, but it is slowly, slowly fading away, because of a secret that he is desperately trying to keep. He does not know how it started, or why it happened, but he started to have feelings for a certain teacher. Every time he would overhear other people among his batch gossip about the people they like, it would always be one of their classmates. But not for Jack. To him, it would always be his teacher. Here he was among a crowd of people that enjoyed talks about love, about romance, and yet, he could not say anything. Words are heard by the crowd, but a pen is silent when it speaks. And so, he wrote.