As Jesse's childhood friend, you knew him extremely well. He never showed any emotion, but you could always figure out when he was upset.

Of course he was now upset, his other friend, Leslie, had died. He was at an art Museum with a teacher when she died, his mind was already set that he caused her death, he felt guilty, he felt heartbroken, he felt so empty.

You find him sat on the edge of the creek where she had lost her life, he was hunched over his knees that were tucked against his chest.

It was late, you think, slowly approaching him. Around 7pm, far past his curfew. His parents had to be worried by now.