I’m the type of girl who is very nit-picky. I clean out my computer files after every school year in June and file away writing pieces, school essays, and other junk teenage writers keep on their desktop. My bed has to be made a certain way and I can’t concentrate when someone mentions Justin Bieber. I start spazzing out when I’m without chapstick. Writing is my oxygen. I tried telling my science teacher this, but he only argued writing could be a metaphorical type of air, but not literal.

My name is Alexandra Lynn. I go by Alex, most of the time. Occasionally I’m nicknamed Bug, by my mother, and a variety of other things from jealous people. But let’s not get into that. He was Cameron. Very smart, very kind, and put down all the time. Mr. Dennis, my language arts teacher finally stopped the bullying being said to Cameron.

“You guys need to stop harassing Cameron. There is a lot of ridicule is this class towards Cameron and it’s not appropriate.” As like all bullies, they stopped being mean towards Cameron, thank goodness. And somehow, over time, we started talking more and more and more. It was a very good thing. Cameron’s knowledge played a big part in simple conversations that lead to joking about him being my therapist. No matter what was said to Cameron, he always pushed it away, trying not to think about it.

The time came in language arts when we sat next to each in state testing. Afterwards, we talked for about twenty minutes about what we were doing over the summer and stuff. He was just a great friend and I felt so honored to know him, because it is very hard to find nice people at my school. Cameron taught me a well-learned lesson. No matter what people say to you, you just have to let it go.