Alex, a good friend of mine, wore his emotions on the tan sleeves of his bull rider jacket with his brown cowboy boots. He would always make everyone smile by his laugh or his smile. He was an "easy target" because he was only a few inches shorter than me, loved trains, and got along better with adults than people his own age. He was so intelligent; particularly about trains. His favorite thing to talk about locomotives was mostly the engine and the parts of his favorite train named Big Boy. Big Boy was painted by Alexander Frey himself. As well, he was extraordinarily funny: a major goof ball. This one time at lunch, he vigorously tapped my shoulder saying, “Look what I can do; I can make my arm grow!” as he extended both arms straight out, one slightly further than the other. Over all, his personality is very similar to Sebastian’s. Close to his end, he gradually became less and less happy and smile; it was a rarity to see him even smirk.

I remember when I witnessed Alex get brutally harassed. A ninth grader just walked up to him, pushed his into a closed green locker and said, “Get out of my way you midget! This is my hallway!” and walked away in a skip like fashion. I walked to my class, pretending I didn't see anything happen; the bully pranced to in the opposite direction. Carey Junior High School, the home of the black and gold Braves, was about the size of the full quad here at Green Valley High School. Cheyenne,Wyoming in the middle of the nine month winter, is always covered with blinding bright white, blistering cold, snow plus a wind chill and including the already negative degrees below. The last day of school before winter break was the last time I ever saw his smile, deep blue eyes, cowboy boots, and most importantly, him! I didn't say anything to him, I couldn't even look at him at that point. I was so disappointed in myself for not trying to help him or relinquish the bully of his “duties.”

January 1st, 2012 I had received a text message from one of our old elementary class mates asking “Have you see this person?” I looked at my phone is utter shock and disbelief. “Is this a joke? Is Alex really missing?” I replied. The only answer I had gotten out of her was a simple “Yes.” I immediately sent the text to every single person’s number I had in my phone at the time. The Wednesday after Christmas break,  my home room teacher announced that Alex had been missing but had been found after pretty much the whole town had been looking for him the past three days; he was lifeless, cold, and grey. There wasn't a peep; no one said anything, did anything, I don't think anyone was breathing until someone said something. That someone was me. I raised my and asked, "Can you repeat that please?" Everyone was in total shock. As my teacher repeated, "Alex has been found, dead late last night or early this morning." I slowly began to cry quietly to myself. I asked " Where was his body found? Who found him? How did he die? Why is he dead?" She said, "His body was found by the train tracks by the train depot," I began to cry even harder. She continued, "I cannot tell you who found him. This report says he shot himself early Sunday morning. Lastly, we believe he committed suicide because he was being bullied."  The rest of the day, I could not stop crying, along with many of my class mates.

I haven't changed much in my appearance but my personality has changed dramatically. Before Alex's death, I was quiet, timid, and I wouldn't speak up if anything wrong happened; now I'm the opposite. Being my shy self, I hardly said anything to anyone except my closest friends, and sadly Alex and I didn't talk much before break. To this day, I still feel guilty; I should have helped him or told an adult what I saw. I blame myself for him not being here today. So many emotions empower me: sadness, uselessness, alone, afraid, anger, and so many more. It was and still is over welming. If I could go back just one time I would tell someone what I saw and say "Hi" to Alex and ask him to hang out, then have a real conversation with him. I would help him when he needed help and make sure everything in his life was going well and listen if he needed someone to talk to. I wish the bullies would have stopped bullying him and tried to get to know him and not "know" him for his height, get to see the good, almost unknown side of him.

Watching Alex get bullied to the point he committed suicide, is a huge injustice i will always remember. Bullying needs to end, not only because it's very rude and self-conscience deducting but for Alex and his sad, heart broken family and friends, it was life altering.