Dear whoever may find this confession,
Hello! My name is Stanley, and these are my last words.
Haven't you ever known someone who you instantly despised? Who made you clench your fists until you heard your knuckles crack, and your face started twitching like you had a real bad itch? Well, Tim Repon was that someone. I swear, if I could see, Tim would never have tried crossing me.
My eyesight started going to hell when I was six years old. Don't know why, so don't ask.
Every weekday, as I walked into Hill-View High school, all along the halls I heard his booming voice echo my name, or 'Blindspot,' a lousy nickname which quickly became a big hit, until even the teachers would mutter it as I walked by. But I'm skipping ahead.
My first day of high school was a disaster. As I tap-tap-tapped my way into the classroom for the first time, he began with no doubt or guilt in his voice.
''Hey, stick! Howdy,blindspot,over here! What's wrong, ya deaf too?''
I heard a few rough,ro