Everyday, at the end of school, you’d go to your locker and find a letter from someone anonymous. You read them all, never throwing them away. You were popular and the only reason you liked this anonymous person was because they didn’t swarm you. The letter said that they couldn’t even stand by you without screaming

Liliac, that anonymous person, was to worried to be by you. One day she left her glove in your locker. You noticed and smirked. “So that’s who miss anonymous is.” You say aloud