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All My Fault

Sarah Maxwell was a quiet girl. She was, not by the world’s standard’s pretty. In fact you were probably one of the many people who, when saw her in the hall, quickly glanced down, or giggled to your friend. Or maybe you were the one who spray painted her locker with profanity dripping poison with every word. Maybe you were the one who sent threatening messages that scared her so badly. Or maybe you were Alex Dremming.

Sarah was hopelessly in love with Alex. But she was not in anyway hopeless. She never told anyone about this except for Alex. She ran into him at Walmart one humid Saturday afternoon, looked him straight in the eye and gave him her heart. The bravery stuns me. The shallowness of Alex stings me. He laughed as he walked away from her. And laughed when he told all of Facebook. And laughed when he gossiped to his friends. And the world laughed with him.

September 11th. How appropriate. Alex was practicing with his football team first period. The team was easily distracted by laughing at the girl who walked heavily onto the field. You could hear her steps. Each one echoed with anguish and bitterness. She stopped. 30 yard line. Center stage in front of all the team. The coaches yelling at her to get off the field from a distant world. But nothing else mattered to Sarah except glaring down the team and whispering so only a few could hear “All. Your. Fault.” as the cool barrel of the gun pressed against her throbbing temple.

Maybe you were Alex. Or maybe you were me. Who never intended to participate in the bullying but stood on the side lines and said nothing. Maybe you were me, who knew allof it was wrong but said nothing. Who am I? I am Legion, for we are many. There are hundreds of me in every school. Maybe you were me, who was bitterly crying at her memorial because I knew it was ‘All. My. Fault.’



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