I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him. -- Mark Twain

Prologue: The Trap Door

Seven years. The only thing I remember seven years ago in 5th grade is him. And all I remember is that I hate him. I hate him.

His looks are foggy but I think he had wavy black hair and blue eyes. He was sweet and gentle and kind and everything a girl could ask for. The last time I saw him, he was overweight and always picked on. Fifth grade was when he moved. They say the reason he moved is because his parents and he couldn't stand living here anymore. I don't know why he's the only memory I have of elementary and I hate him. He has never been rude to me; he's always been patient, forgiving, and understanding. He would only tell me that he loves me.

That much I remember.