It was so unreal. I ran upstairs to my parent's bedroom and laid with the cat. It's starting.
It couldn't have been suicid-
It's starting.
I thought it wouldn't happen to my grade, even though when we had taken a poll at the beginning of the year so 60 odd percent said 'Thinking about suicide."
I just thought that we would hold in our pain, because it was going to get worse.
None of us were willing to go that far.
Not until Wednesday.
Maybe it was Tuesday night.
But what difference does that make?
You're still dead.
The problem is that it's a chain reaction; Now that you're gone others will feel guilty. Then they might commit suicide, and on it goes.
Why?
I know, of course.
But I'm only twelve.
What do I know?
A lot, apparently.
YOU ARE READING
Now You Know Me.
Non-FictionThere are others. Others who felt the impact way more than I did- others that it directly affected. I'm just a girl that was in his grade, was aware of his existence. Went to the same school as him, three lockers down. So why was it so life-changin...
