I’ve only been here at Umberley for a month. At first I hated it, partly because I was bitter about being sent to this boarding school for ‘troubled teens’ in the first place, and partly because I couldn’t stand my classmates - especially Will Pigarcy. On the first day of classes, he completely ignored me. I tried to introduce myself, but he wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there until I practically screamed, “HELLO! I AM ELIZABETH CASSKONHOLRALGENE! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?” Even after this he merely said, “I am William Pigarcy,” and walked away. Needless to say, I was justified in completely hating his guts for the first month of school.


I did make one friend that day: Phoebe Gardispencimon. She’s been an amazing friend for the two minutes that she sees me every day. The problem is, she has her own things to be doing, which don’t include taking care of me. I wasn’t aware that I needed taking care of, but I guess that’s why I’m here. I need my soul to be nurtured and all that other stuff you hear about these places doing.


Let me back up for a minute. I didn’t want to go to this school in the first place. It’s just that…while I was at my old school I did this not very nice thing to my best friend. I didn’t know it would backfire but…well, there’s no use dwelling on it now. It’s already happened. There’s nothing I can do about it now, so I just have to let it go.


In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been avoiding talking about what this thing actually was. I’m going to have to tell you at some point, but as long as that point isn’t now, I’m okay.


Will is telling me that that point is now. I don’t want it to be, but here we go.



Just kidding, let me give you some background on what happened with Will. Yes, I did end up completely hating his guts for the first month of school, especially after George told me all sorts of bad things about him. Will really wanted to be friends with me - I’m not sure why, but that’s beside the point. I hated him. He asked why. I told him. He then explained what really happened and why George was so mad at him - something about George being mean to Will about his asthma and who his father liked better between the two of them. After I heard that, I started to see the good sides of Will and we ended up being really close friends. Phoebe’s convinced that there’s something going on between us, but there really isn’t. I promise.


Now Will’s starting to get kind of mad because I won’t show him that last paragraph (he doesn’t know that Pheobe thinks there’s something going on) and he wants me to hurry up and write about my old school, which I have absolutely positively no interest in doing. Actually, I think quite possibly have a negative interest in writing about this. Yes, I most certainly do. A very negative interest.


All right, here we go. For real this time. Watch out, I’m about to get all metaphorical on you.
So, there’s this part of my mind that I don’t like to go to. It’s kind of figuratively blocked off with caution tape and orange cones - the types of things that you shouldn’t cross but you can if you really want to. This is where I have all the memories of the last week I was at my old school.


My best friend Jack Finnaesarseph and I were hanging out in the park after school one day when I saw a man - he was young, maybe 25 or so. He was standing on the path behind Jack, maybe 20 feet away, facing us. He looked like he was watching Jack, but I didn’t think anything of it because I thought I knew him. Jack and I were sitting opposite each other, so he didn’t see this man at first. I stared at the man, trying to figure out where I recognized him from. As Jack noticed me staring and turned around to look, it hit me. It was Jack’s older brother, Reuben. He had run away when Jack and I were six or seven. He had changed a lot by now - he was taller and had grown a beard - but he wasn’t different enough for me to doubt that it was him.


Reuben saw Jack turning around and ran for it. I caught a glance at his face as he turned away. His smile was bittersweet, as if he had wanted to see Jack but knew that he couldn’t actually talk to him. Then, he disappeared into the woods behind the park. I never told Jack that he had been so close to his brother. I knew telling him would do more harm than good. That is, until two days later. There was an obituary in the local newspaper for his brother. He was unnamed, but definitely the same old Reuben. Just gone.


Jack was devastated. He had never gotten to say goodbye to Reuben. That had always been one of the things that kept him going: one day he would see Reuben again. Once he couldn’t live for that anymore, he didn’t know how to function.


Jack’s had to go through some pretty serious therapy. For a while we all wondered if he’d make it through. Now he goes to a school like mine, except it’s one that specializes in kids who basically just need a fresh start. He’s doing okay, I guess. I stopped talking to him after he switched schools. It was too painful.


After Jack left, the everyday business of just getting up and going to school started to wear on me. It got worse and worse until one day I just decided that I was not going to get out of bed no matter how much my mother tried to get me up. This went on every morning for about a week and a half before she decided to have some serious conversations. Recounting those would be pointless and, to say the least, awkward. I’ll just say that by the end of this series of conversations, it was decided that I’d be going to Umberley.


As the months have gone on here, I’ve started talking to people, and appreciating them. You already heard my story about Will. The same turned out to be true of a lot of the other kids - that I found a way to hate them but once I realized how ridiculous I was being, they seemed a lot better to me.


Will's telling me to hurry up and finish. I think he's just eager to go get ice cream, but he's denying it. Anyway, I think that this is one of those stories that needs to be wrapped up neatly, so here it goes.


I was reading Harry Potter the other day when I came across this quote: “It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” That really made me stop and think about all the stuff that happened last year. I was dwelling on the idea of my choice to ruin Jack’s life as a defining characteristic of me. That didn’t make me feel too great. I know there’s no way I could’ve seen what would happen, and how terrible it would be for Jack. I honestly thought I was making the right decision. That’s comforting, but only to a certain extent. Sure, I can speak three languages fluently and took geometry in seventh grade, but I don’t think even those things could ever help me overcome what I did to Jack.


Thinking about this more, I’ve realized that because it’s our choices that define who we are, I need to start making some better ones. Even though it’s going to be painful, I’ve decided to tell Jack about that day in the park. I’ll emphasize how it looked like Reuben was watching out for Jack, and how sad he was to go. If Jack doesn’t want to discuss it, neither do I, but at least we’ll be talking to each other again. I’m making that choice. That’s who I want to be.