The list, written by Fireside Chats 451.

Ah, Mr. Cully, the principal at my elementary school kept a list of names in his bottom desk

drawer.

He was one of those rumors you hear from your best friend's brothers and neighbors, Cousin.

Impossible to track, and just as impossible to kill.

No one was brave enough to ask the grown folks about it, and if we had, they'd just deny

it.

Adults lie a lot.

We learned that fast.

I was in third grade when I got called to Mr. Cully's office.

I didn't know why, and I'd never been in trouble before.

My feet swung above the floor as I took a seat.

Mr. Cully's bald head was shiny, and his glasses made his eyes look small.

He laced his fingers and looked at me.

Mr. Brown, he said.

He always called the kids, Mr. Cully.

Do you know why you're here?

I shook my head.

And if I had known, I was too afraid to speak.

Well, he said, making an effort to sound kind.

It's nothing bad, I promise.

I just want to get to know all of my students.

...