B.

We walk for what feels like forever until I see a large sycamore tree in the middle of a field of purple flowers. It seems out of place, yet perfectly set at the same time.

Lo was buried under a sycamore tree.

How sad. My only true friend at Exeter High is my English teacher.

Other times to soft snoring that makes me giggle.

“You’re not going to get tormented when I’m gone,” he promises, his tone too determined to argue with.

If we only knew how true that was…

Then it happens.

The fucking sunshine.

The dispersing clouds.

The rainbow.

can still tell what they are.

A lacrosse stick.

The UM emblem.

Sunshine.

One of them has words.

If you don’t go to UM, I’ll haunt you.