[fake journal entry]
In sixth grade, this girl in our class ran away and committed suicide. They never found her body, though. We were never read her suicide note, but the adults told the class we were the reason why she died. They told us we bullied her, and she had had enough.
I, for one, didn't even notice there was bullying going around. The other kids in the class never thought they were bullying her, either. But nonetheless, the weight of another human's life pushed us down into the dirt.
Never had I felt guilt as thick and immense until that day. I felt like I had done no wrong actions, but as I grew up, I realized it was the lack of action and awareness that caused this girl to take her life.
There was a phase where I felt like a murderer. I'm sure everyone in the class felt like they had done something wrong, I'm sure they regretted their actions.
I later on realized how cruel children can be, and when I looked back at my sixth grade class, they were little more than your average school bullies. It never seemed so serious to cause another person to take their life. But just like how children can be cruel, they can also be sensitive. That girl must have been a sensitive one, and none of us thought about that. No one thought about what effect the teasing would have on her.
A few days ago, I bumped into someone. She looked like how that girl in sixth grade would have looked, if she had lived. Instantly curious about her, I asked her out to dinner.
thought of this while eating breakfast today.
took a while to write it out, though :c
word count:276 words