Memories Bequeathed

Chapter 2

Esther Santiago, despite the false name, you will know who you are. You have to know the suffering you endowed upon me. So today, you are my first victim. Or, really, I should say that I was yours. Yes, that is more accurate. That is how it was.

To be fair, I will say this:  you didn't do much. You never beat me up. You never took my lunch money. In fact, no one ever did that. I'm not even sure if that is real or if it just happens in movies. Personally, I've never even needed lunch money. My school never had a cafeteria. Huh. Anyhow, I must begin somewhere, so it will be with you.

First of all Estie - may I call you Estie? - you never had any friends. You thought you did. Your "friends" thought you did. They thought you were a friend. But, it never was true. You never had a friend. Anyone with eyes could see it. Anyone outside of your clique, that is. Unfortunately, the clique consisted of almost everyone in the grade, and even some people from older classes. You guys were constantly fighting; you were always jumping down each other's throats. Of course, that was behind each others backs, so you never knew you were fighting.

When Amy Berger would leave to get water, you would chat about how she gained weight or how she smells. At the water-fountain, where Amy would meet Shelly Leonard, they would complain about how controlling you can be. Then, when the three of you met up, you would plaster on smiles, link arms, and stroll away.  Well, Esther, let me tell you: you have been fighting with your best "friends" for the past 12 years. Just thought you ought to know.

Esther, you are 4 days older than me. Four. Days. Yet, somehow, you made yourself queen. You crowned yourself then built a nice little kingdom. Perhaps, in the beginning, it was peaceful. but then it became a dictatorship with "Her Majesty" as the dictator. Your nation consisted of idiotic disciples whose lives you made hell. If they were to ever disobey "Her Royal Majesty", they were to be beaten down by the national guard. How were they to protect themselves and their friends in any way but to obey thee? Many real nations can attest to this. There isn't always something you can do about the government/person in power. You can rebel, but you will be beaten. You can sit and wait it out, but what good will that do? You are truly trapped.

I was one of the fighters.

Esther, I never took your crap.

I never let your bullshit slide by me.

I confronted you when I thought you were cruel. I fought you on ideas and points I thought to be irrational.

I won.

A pyrrhic victory.

At the end of each day I was beaten by your goons. They didn't even have the decency to corner me while I was leaving school and do the beating in a dark alley. They didn't do it when no one was around. No. They couldn't spare me that privilege. You... you couldn't spare it.

No.

no

I was the example. The showcase. I had to be beaten in front of everyone. I was to seen as a threat, so I was put in my place in a public location for everyone to see. They would look at me and see it, the message would be clear as day; This is what happens to those who disobey. This is what happens to children who think. This is what happens to children with morals, to children who stand up for one another. Decent children get their faces pushed in. They get their stomachs bruised. Their noses broken. Their lips get swollen. They suffer. We suffer. I suffered. I still suffer.

Your hitmen would do it in the middle of the hall. They'd surround me and just start throwing punches. I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. No one to go to.

I was alone.

I'd go to the administration, what a waste. The teachers would simply make the "bullies" apologize.

"Say you're sorry," my English teacher, Mrs. Levine would say. She, along with all the rest of the teachers, wouldn't listen to my "conspiracies". They wouldn't listen to the truth: that you, Esther, were behind it all. It wasn't really Justin that threw the punch, but Esther who gave the command. It wasn't Noah that kicked me,  but Esther who damaged me with her words.

"Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never harm me."

You know what I think of that?

Fuck it.

Fuck that, and fuck you, Esther!

Putting it simply, although you yourself never laid one of your perfectly manicured fake little fingers on me, that does not mean that you didn't hurt me.

You were, after all, the first person to make me feel bad about myself. You made me question why I should even stand up for both myself and others.

You made it so that I thought it was okay for this shit to happen. That that's how the world worked.

Well, fuck you, Esther Santiago.

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Author's Note

Thank you for reading, and please comment and/or vote. It would be greatly appreciated.

- NerdilyNerdy