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  • Writer's pictureKara Chatham

Wish You Were Dead

I did as that one guy suggested. I killed myself. Some would call it the coward’s way out. I wonder if that one guy is happy with himself. He was that one person, that one thing that pushed me over the edge. Not literally, because that would be murder and I killed myself – of that I am certain. Most people plan their suicides. I didn’t. I just found something that would do the job and do it well. I guess I should actually tell you how I got to this point. I don’t really want to tell you the gross details of my suicide. Not to mention, those aren’t really important to my story.

My story really starts with one line. “Everybody wishes you were dead!” Those were the words spoken to me by a couple different people during my high school years. That’s right; I was in high school when I ended my life. I was eighteen. I only had three months left before I graduated from the place that seemed to mean a lot until that moment that I took my own life. I bet if you are a college student or someone in the big bad real world, you’re probably thinking, “You would have been so much happier if you would have just held on a little bit longer.” You may be right, but that is not how my story goes, so bear with me on this.

Now, I had heard that one line (that is what we are going to refer to it as because I really, really don’t like hearing those words and I can’t imagine you like reading them) more than once in my high school years. The one that pushed me over the edge happened because I stood up for someone else. I sat at a table with some people, only two of whom I actually considered friends but I didn’t mind the others who sat with us. Well they were talking badly about someone else whom I am friends with. I asked if they would stop or at least not say those things in front of me. This was something that was happening for a few days. I was getting fed up. I decided to tell my friend what was being said about her. She did what most wouldn’t and confronted the main person who was saying the lies. As far as I know, she didn’t say anything about me being the one who said something, but somehow the guy found out (his name is of no importance, I promise). Instead of confronting me about it in a calm, collected manner, he decided to make it into a public event.

“Did you tell her that we were talking about her,” he asked with a stern voice that was just loud enough to hear above the noises of the lunch room.

“I did,” I replied. I didn’t see any reason for me to lie about it.

“Why would you do such a thing,” he asked. His voice was a bit louder than before.

“She needed to know,” I said. Keeping my voice as calm as possible and as level as I could. “I would hope that someone would do the same for me, if someone was saying untrue things about me.”

“No,” he yelled. “She didn’t need to know and you’re just stupid for telling her.” He stood up and started pointing fingers at me and his voice continued to rise in volume. “You need to leave this lunch table. No one likes you. You need to go sit somewhere else. You’re a terrible person. You’re absolutely worthless. Everyone wishes you were dead.”

I refused to leave the table. Mostly because there was only five minutes left in the lunch period, but I also hoped to make a statement by not moving just because he told me to do so. Let me clarify that this guy was not one of the ones I considered to be a friend. The ones whom I considered to be friends never said a word while this guy was going on and on about how much of a worthless person I was. Looking at it now, the fact that they didn’t try to stand up for me is what hurt the most.

Well that is what happened prior to where I am now. At the moment, I am watching over those whom I called friends when I was alive. I’m watching as they handle the loss of me, Shealds Rose. Some appear like they do not actually care that I am gone when they are alone, but when they are in public they seem to care an awful lot. Wish I would have known that before. One of the ones who appear to care, in the company of others, said that she confronted the guy who publically disgraced me when they were in seventh period. Unfortunately that did absolutely nothing for me. How was I supposed to know that she confronted him later? What good does later do when the problem is in the past at that point? Let me tell you, it does absolutely nothing for someone who has already passed on. If I was still alive, the only thing that it would do is show me how much of a coward she is (which is all it shows me now, but it does me no good now). Word of advice: if you are placed in a situation where you can stand up for someone, do it. It is far more rewarding to stand up for others than to cower in fear of someone who is really not worth your time. I can say that this person whom I stood up to was neither worth my time, nor my friendship because he consistently spoke poorly of other people, which is a display of a lack of respect for others.

There are those few, those small few who are a complete wreck about my passing. One of those few was my closest friend. She was the closest thing I had to a sister. I was there for her when these same people were not the nicest to her. That was three years before what happened to me and they were not quite as cruel to her. She is really such a sweet girl. She writes me letters, even though I am gone. In one of the letters, she told me how that guy who said that line had been talking about the type of person I was when I was alive. Apparently he had been talking about how much of a prude I was – this is on the fact that I preferred to not join in their sexual conversations – and how now that I was gone that they could all have more fun. She tells me how she tries to separate from that crowd, but it seems to be impossible right now. After graduation she intends to leave that group all together. I can’t say that I blame her.

I had a plan for post-graduation. I had dreams and aspirations. I may not have spoken very much of them because it never seemed like anyone wanted to listen. The only time anyone every cared about something that I was passionate about was when it could help them get a good grade. Other than that, I was basically useless to all of them. Now I get to watch them all struggle to figure out my favorite author’s most famous novel. It is kind of amusing, actually.

I kind of wish I could carry out my plan, but now I can’t. It is part of the sacrifices made for choosing the choice I chose. My plan after graduation was to get away from that crowd. I was going to go to a college where no one from my graduating class was attending. I was going to have a fresh start and life was going to be better.

I am so glad that I actually made that choice. I’m sure if you’re reading this then you are very confused. I, Shealds Rose, am not dead. I did not commit suicide. All that you just read was a fictional way of delivering true information. I was publically disgraced my senior year of high school and I was told that I should go kill myself because no one liked me. Those whom I considered to be friends at that lunch table did confront the person who was not thrilled with my choice to stand up for someone the following class period after I had already been yelled at. It had been stated that no one could have fun around me because I refused to join in the type of fun they enjoyed discussing. The same group of people spread rumors about my best friend and it was at that time that she and I met and I stood by her then just like she stood by me when I was the intended victim. I did carry out my post-graduation plan of going to a college that absolutely no one from my high school graduation class attends. It has been the best decision I ever made in my life. I hope that by sharing my story in this fictional way that it brings the importance of word choice to everyone’s attention. You have absolutely no idea what is going on with a person at all times. You do not know how your words can affect them. For some, it only takes saying that line a few times before they decide to pull the plug on their life. How would you feel if you knew that because you spoke those hateful words to them and the next day you found out that they ended their life? Think about it. That is all I ask.

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