It's just another day...another day in the beautiful life you were granted. 

          You hear your alarm go off and slam your hand down, groaning that you have to get out of bed. You could lay here all day if you had the choice. The soft sheets and blankets feel so good wrapped around your body. Yet you force yourself up, making your way towards the shower. You test the water to make sure it's not too hot, before stepping in and feeling the gentle liquid run through your hair and down your body. 

          It was him you spotted that first day of school, sitting in the back of the classroom, all alone. You could feel a sense of insecurity—a sense of lost, or perhaps never even discovered, dignity. You knew he was the perfect target. You knew he wasn't going to fight back, at least not to the degree that would cause you to leave him alone. And it was at that moment, you dedicated it to yourself to make his life a living hell. 

          You get out of the shower and grab a towel, wrapping it around your waist. After brushing your teeth and throwing on some clothes, you head downstairs to pour yourself a bowl of cereal. 

          From that moment on, you harassed him every day. Not every other week, or every other class, but every...single...day. You went out of your way to make sure he suffered, even when he did nothing to you. It was in your destiny to torture his mind and dismantle his confidence. It made you feel powerful—gave you a sense of entitlement.

          Once you finish your cereal, you pack your bag and head to the front door. You say goodbye to your loving family, who's always been there to support you. 

          The pleasure you got from humiliating him in front of everyone was too much to resist. The names you called him...the rumours you spread...the lies you told.

          You climb into your car, a BMW that your parents bought you for your birthday. You proceed to make your everyday route to school. You smile to yourself, knowing that today's going to be a good day. Every day is a good day for you. You're well-known, the girls like you, you're never picked on. High school has been heaven on earth for you, the best four years of your life. But not for him. Walking through those doors every morning is an utter nightmare, and you are responsible for it.

          You park your car and get out. Everyone acknowledges you as you approach the school. It's a familiar scene you've encountered many times before. This is the exact treatment you're always used to, receiving positive attention and being well recognized.

          Meanwhile, years went by, and every day you continued to belittle him like an animal. A pain was building inside him, a pain that you couldn't even imagine with your incredible life. Anger and frustration boiled through his veins like a tea kettle, while you were out having the time of your life. He cried himself to sleep at night, praying to God that you'd take pity on him.

          As you enter the school, you are met with high-fives and fist bumps. You smile as all your friends come to greet you. Only two more weeks and you'll be graduating from this place. What an amazing run it was. And then you'll be off to college. Your parents already paid for your tuition, and you'll continue to have a blast there. Going to parties...getting girls...sipping drinks. 

          But he's not going to experience that. He's just going to be another outcast that people don't pay attention to, or only pay attention to in a negative manner. Because that's who you created him to be. You made sure that no one befriended him; made sure that he spent all of his time alone to rot away in misery. You never once in four years showed him any type of remorse. You felt superior by doing this, and knew you had him broken down mentally. It gave you pleasure.

          The bell rings and you say goodbye to your friends. 

          You start making your way down the hallway to class, when there he is, coming around the corner. A devilish grin spreads across your face. You contemplate all the cruel things you'd like to do to him; all the nasty comments you'd like to leave. Perhaps you'll give him a push, or instead degrade him with your foul words. You know he won't stick up for himself. He never did in the past, so why should he now?

          But as you get closer, you notice him reaching into his waist. There's a cold expression upon his face. His eyes, which are usually sad, have an angry look in them. It's then you realize the object he pulls out is a gun. You think it's some kind of prank at first, a last-minute joke before graduation. But he slowly raises the weapon and aims down the barrel, pointing it right at you, that same cold look in his eyes.

          And that's the last thing you ever see.