I wonder if you like it wherever you are. Is the sun too hot? Or do the stars not shine as bright as they do here? When the wind blows, does it take away your words and never return them? Or does it remind you of the things you never said? Do you still wear smart collared shirts in an attempt to look mature? Or have you given up on that like you have on us?

It's odd to think that you are no longer you in the sense that the person I knew may have changed long ago. I never suspected that we'd drift a part or go our separate ways. To be honest, I never really thought about anything.

I bet you preach about the wrongness of bullying; just like that day before you left. You told everyone that we were a bunch of bums who had no future. You discarded me by saying that I was going to end up like my dad, and that I would never escape from this town. That hurt, you know. I guess I should've felt bad about how horrible I was back then but the idea of you outing us irritated me more.

I'm sorry.

I realize that maybe I should have been a better friend. I should've been the kind of friend that was conscious of what was happening, but it was the wind that carried the screams - the screams of those we tormented - away for us never to hear.

I don't think you'd believe me though. You'd say no, the screams were there but they were muffled by our laughter.