No one messed with him.

It went on for a while like this, the rage behind his eyes focusing in on the people around him. He didn’t speak to anyone, did his school work, and wasn’t called upon during the day to answer questions.

That is, until we were assigned a project.

I think it was something about family, which probably stung him harder than anything else, and you had to ask your parents questions. Presentation day came, and I distinctly remember him not having a project with him to enter the class. Thought it was strange, but assumed he was just being the regular old Jeremy. The bell rang, we all sat down, and we each presented our projects.

“Jeremy” the teacher called, it was his turn to speak. He stood from his desk, hand to his pocket, and walked up to the front of the room. Something changed in his eyes, he went from fury to a bitter sadness. I will never forget it for as long as I live. I was sitting in the front row, his face aimed towards the floor, and out from his pocket he pulled a gun.~