(CW: Mention of Death. Post-story West End Heathers)

Senior year is finally over. High school is finally over. What a hell of a ride.

But...I guess there's something bittersweet about it. Like suddenly being free after dragging around a heavy ball and chain. It feels so foreign and light. I'm glad it's over, but it'll take some getting used to.

Rain patters against the window. Lovely weather for the last day of school. Though, it isn't really the last day of school; it's three months of summer, and then into college and back to the grind.

But that shouldn't mean I can't enjoy it while it lasts. There's no rush, no pressure: I just have to be who I am. I'd much rather spend time with Balloon and Lightbulb, and Test Tube really is coming around. It's so much easier being friends with them than being popular.

Being popular...turned me into a monster. The people that didn't make it out of high school, Taco, Trophy, Knife...it wasn't a nightmare. They still haunt me in my dreams. I played a hand in their deaths. It's no different than if I killed them myself.

And Fan...I wish things with him went differently. He did things I can't really forgive, but that doesn't mean it's entirely his fault. He had a tough life, so he had to be tougher. It broke him. No one deserves to live like that. ...I wish people were nicer. Then tragedies like that could be avoided.

A tragedy. Is that really what I think of Fan? That's so disrespectful to him. I loved him. I...still do, I guess.

He made me smile, made me laugh, made me want to fight for something. And if he stuck around, I could've helped him see that not everyone in the world is against him. I could've helped him. Healed him.

Although, it really wouldn't be that easy. He'd have to come to that realization himself. But still, I could've done more for him. He should've had so much more life. Everyone should've had more life.

I'm not...trying to make excuses for myself, right? One of the last things Fan told me was to make things better. Because I beat him, because I resisted until the end, I have the strength to make the world a slightly better place. Starting with myself, and then passing kindness on to other people.

I didn't feel strong in that moment. But laying here, in bed, I really do have the confidence to be more of myself. To let others know that being dorky, or nerdy, and even weak and vulnerable is okay. To choose to grow and learn instead of shrinking back and bottling the trauma.

It's not that easy. Nothing ever is. But if everyone makes a little effort, to support each other and themselves, then things would be better. It starts with small steps.

That's Fan's legacy. That's the message I carry in his name. The world he could've lived in, where he could've been supported and understood...I'll make sure it happens. He would've loved that.

I roll over and pull the blanket up. It's been a long year. I deserve a little rest.