(Zoë POV)

Summer holiday was over. I didn’t want to wake up. I loved seeing my friends again, but I didn’t like school. It took too much energy, because I had to fight a lot.

I took breakfast and took some bread for lunch. I got dressed and took my stuff. The house was empty, like always. My parents run a store and since Jerry, my brother, died 9 months ago, they are always working.

 

Someone knocked at the door. It was already 7:50! Lisa, my best friend waited for me to get ready. ‘I’m sorry!’ I said. ‘I only have to brush my teeth. Come in.’ I said. After I’ve brushed my teeth we could go to school. We talked about our holidays. Mine wasn’t that special. I spent a lot time with friends and at the beach, if I could use foundation.

 

We walked into the school. The first lesson always was with the mentor class. Lisa had another mentor, so she walked to her class. None of my friends had the same mentor this year. I took a seat and talked to a girl I knew from last year. Someone opened the door. There he was. He looked like he was only 23 years old. He was tall and I could see he trains a lot. He had dark hair till his shoulders and deep brown eyes. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt. He looked perfect.

 

‘Good morning everyone. I’m Mr. Lewis. I’ll be your mentor and I’m the new English teacher. I don’t know anyone, so if you all can say who you are, I can get to know you a little bit’ he said with his deep beautiful voice.

 

I had to say I was attracted to him. He was so handsome and seemed to be so nice. He was so good-looking and… Wait, he’s a teacher, he’s a no go. Stop crushing on him, a mental voice said.

‘Your turn, miss…’ I heard. I looked up. ‘Yes, you, with the red sweater,’ Mr. Lewis said a little annoyed. I blushed. I didn’t want to have a bad attitude.  ‘I’m sorry, I was just somewhere else I think’ I said. Somewhere, thinking about someone who happened to be my teacher, I thought. ´Uhm… I´m Zoë and I’m 17 years old. I love music and writing’ I said, still with a little blush on my cheek.

 

‘I would like you all to fill in this form. After I get your form I will have a little talk with all of you these weeks’ he said while he gave all of us a form. There were some questions I didn’t want to answer. There were important things he could need to know about me, but I didn’t know yet if I could trust him enough to tell him. Besides that, these things weren’t things you write down.

I handed it in and he read it. Something in my answers must have worried him, because he wanted to talk to me after the lesson ended.

 

‘Something in your answers and in the look in your eyes caused me some worries about you. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I want to know you can tell me if you want’ he said. I trusted him, enough to tell a part of the story. I didn’t know if I could tell everything, but I could start.

‘I think you know my brother died last year?’ I asked. He nodded, of course he knew. ‘Since he died I felt worse and worse. My parents always worked a lot and since Jerry died the even work harder. They run their own store and they are barely home. I don’t blame them, I love them and I know they love me. I know this is their way to cope with Jerry’s death.

 

I always thought a lot, more than people with the same age. After the funeral I felt empty. Jerry and I were very close. I started to create a depression, which I still fight against. I didn’t want to go to school, or do anything else. I only wanted to stay in bed and cry. I wanted Jerry came back, I wanted to be still a child. No one knows about the depression. I fight against it, but it’s hard. You’re the first one I tell.’ I said. I didn’t tell everything, but maybe I would tell him.

 

I didn’t know why I trusted him like this. I barely knew him and I told him more than people I know my

whole life. I only knew I trusted him and it felt good to tell everything.

‘There is more, but I need to be sure you won’t tell anyone.’  I said. ‘You know there are things I’ll need to report. You know I would need to report if you’re a danger to yourself or others,’ Mr. Lewis warned.

 

‘Sir, I can say that what I want to say doesn’t danger others or is against the law. I’m not sure what you count under ‘damaging myself’ but it’s not like I want to die or something.’ I said. ‘If you think it won’t endanger yourself you can tell me. I only can say that I’ll try to help you, whatever I will do. I don’t think I will need to report now, but I will when I’m unable to help you.’ Mr. Lewis said.

I thought I could trust him.

 

2: chapter 2

Author’s note: I have some poems in the story, but if you don’t like poems or don’t want to read it, you can skip them. You won’t miss a thing in the story, it’s just that I wanted to write some poems by the story

(Zoë POV)

I started to tell Mr. Lewis the whole story. ‘When I feel down I usually listen to music, read a book or I start writing. This always helped me. I could focus on something else, or I could put my feelings into words. One day I felt worse than before. I couldn’t concentrate on my book. Every song had something what ruined my mood even more. I felt anger and I couldn’t write a single word. I didn’t know what to do to feel better.’ After that I looked up. Mr. Lewis was truly listening. I could see worries in his eyes. Again. However, I couldn’t go back and I thought he would understand it. I wasn’t able to find the right words to say what I wanted to say. I didn’t know how to say, or what to say. Instead of telling him I rolled up my left sleep a bit.

 

He saw a few scratches and some scars. I have the bad luck to get scars very soon. Mr. Lewis knew I did this to myself. I always stayed away from my wrists, but that was one of the only edges I had. Mr. Lewis came a little closer. ‘I was desperate’ I said. ‘I thought it would help me, just one time. I thought I could forget everything, focus on the physical pain. But, it helps just a little…’ I said. ‘I… I… This is heavy’ Mr. Lewis said. He rolled up my sleeve a bit further and saw everything. I started to panic a bit. ‘Please, don’t report. You promised me I could trust you’ I said, with a little voice. I was afraid for what he’d do. ‘I won’t, for now’ he promised. ‘But, I’ll have to do when this gets worse. I mean, when you start to cut deeper or come closer to your wrists, or if you become suicidal too’ he said with a soft voice. I understood, I knew this was on the edge of what wouldn’t be reported and I knew some others would report.

 

‘I want to help you Zoë’ Mr. Lewis said. I saw he really cared, he wasn’t saying this because he felt like he had to. ‘Thank you. It won’t get worse. I’m glad I could tell you and that you won’t report. I promise I will try to stop once’ I said.

 

The last break of today I was talking with my friends. ‘OMG, did anyone of you have English today?’ Mia asked. ‘The new teacher is so hot!’ she said. My friends were a bit disappointed now that they haven’t seen him yet. I laughed a bit. ‘I know, he is extremely hot, and he’s kind.’ I added. ‘He’s my mentor this year’ I said. ‘Lucky you’ Lucy said.

 

When I came home the house was empty, like always. I made some dinner and started to make an easy dinner when I ate a few cookies. I hadn’t much homework today so I didn’t know what to do.

I started to think about what happened today. For the first time I told someone my whole story. For the first time I trusted someone. For the first time someone broke through the wall.

Some words came up in my mind and I really needed to write them down.

    

I was building for months

    A wall so no one could get behind

    Brick for brick to the sky

    No one got through it

 

    It was safe for me

    I could cry behind it

    A smile on my face    

    Tears behind the wall

 

    Then you came into my life

    You broke down the wall

    You replaced it behind you

    So you could see through it

(Mr. Lewis POV)

I was worried about Zoë. From the first time I saw her I wanted to get to know her better. She was a bit shy. I could see in her eyes she had to go through a lot. After our chat I understand and I felt the need to get to know her more. I could see she was a strong girl. She coped with everything very well, except the cutting-thing. I barely could understand why she did it, but I tried to understand it. There was a little part of me that understood it very well. Some people go sporting when they feel bad, she cuts herself. Her explanation made it a little bit clear.  

 

The rest of the day was a bit weird. I couldn’t stop thinking about Zoë. I shouldn’t think about her this much and this way, but I did. I was glad when I could go home. I made some dinner and drank a cup of coffee.

 

I started searching on the internet, how I could help Zoë the best. I really wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. Thankfully the internet gave me some advice. I was wondering what Zoë was doing. Would she care enough about herself, would she try to have a good time? Was she alone, or did she spend some time with her friends? Would she think about me, like I thought about her?

‘Stop it Dom! She’s a student!’ I said to myself. ‘You’re not allowed to think of her like this!’

3: chapter 3

(Zoë POV)

The next day I had English. I was excited, but I felt a bit awkward too. Ì felt good yesterday, for one of the first evenings the past few months. To be honest didn’t I care that I felt that way because of a teacher.

English was one of the last classes. I couldn’t wait and kept looking on the clock. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Lisa asked. ‘Nothing, I just need to go to the toilet’ I lied.

After what seemed a week we had English. Mr. Lewis looked nice, with another jeans and a blue shirt. I felt my heart skipped a beat. Stop it Zo I said to myself.

 

‘Good afternoon. For those who don’t already know me, I’m Mr. Lewis. I already know some of you, but I don’t know any other names. I hope I’ll learn them soon’ he said with a little grin. His laugh was so beautiful, he almost looked like a god.

 

‘This theme we are gonna write and read poems. You also will read some poems you’ve written out loud.’ He said. I really liked to write poems, and I’m sure I can write some. ‘I will give you a little assignment so you get a little help with the topic. First pick your favorite color and then write down at least 5 words you relate to this color’ he said. This could be a fun assignment. ‘Does it have to rhyme, sir?’ I asked. ‘Of course not’ he answered.

 

Fine, I could start. Favorite color: red. Words related to this color: Love, anger, fire, warmth, tears, blood… I could pick ‘fire’ as topic, about a candle light, flames. Words came I n my head and I quickly wrote them down;

 

Life is like a candle light to me

The candle is your life

The flame is your strength

And the flame is quiet flexible

 

When you blow a little the flame moves

It doesn’t matter how often you blow

The flame will always turn back

The flame will always rise again

 

But when you blow too hard

The flame will lose strength

The flame can’t fight anymore

And the light turns off

 

‘I don’t know what you expect from me, but I won’t read my poems out loud.’ I said after the class. ‘They are way too personal’ I explained. ‘I understand, but you’ll have to. Don’t you have a poem you feel confident with to read out loud? What did you wrote today, for example?’ he asked it. I let him read it. ‘Hmm, maybe you can read this one out loud? For people who don’t know your story it doesn’t mean a lot. Maybe people will think it’s about your brother, but not about the other stuff.’ He said. ‘hmm, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll write a better one’ I said.

 

He was so kind and so perfect. I needed to get out, before I would do something stupid, like kissing him. ‘I… I have to go. My friends are waiting’ I said.

 

(Mr. Lewis pov)

‘I… I have to go. My friends are waiting’ she said. I wanted to ask if she could stay. I wanted to be around her a little longer. ‘Sure, see you tomorrow’ I said.

A few weeks passed by and nothing really happened. I spent some time with my friends, had classes and I had little talks with my mentor students. I still thought about Zoë. I shouldn’t do, but I can’t stop it. She is so strong and so beautiful. I constantly feel the urge to hug her, to kiss her and to have her close to me. She acted so much older than her classmates when no one else is around. I always forget she’s 5 years younger.

 

Today was the day some students would read out loud a poem, like Zoë. I was excited to hear it, but I knew how hard it is for her. Zoë was the last one. She calmed herself and started to read with her clear voice:

 

I’ve seen a lot in my life before

I walked next to ravines

I climbed up to the top

And I ran down the mountain

 

Sometimes climbing is heavy

Sometimes I just want to hold place

But there are things I know

And I keep remembering it

 

The sight at the top is worth everything

Every tear and every little step

To keep enjoying the sight

You will need to go down sometimes

 

It was short, but beautiful. It said something about her strength. She sounded so wise and clever. The class was quiet when she was done.

‘Well done’ I said when the bell rang. She nodded and walked out quickly.