But I Didn't Mean To

I can’t walk

I never thought this would happen to me

It all began in September.

The school year had just begun.

It was a Tuesday morning; only the second week of school and of course we were still getting new students.

Typical agenda, everyone wants to go to school with the white kids where everything is soooo perfect.

The bell rang, signaling the end of yet another class. I’m so ready to leave.

Interrupting the teacher’s lecture came in a new face.

She was brown skinned with an excessively round face.

I didn’t like her already and I wanted to make sure she knew it; she looked nothing like me.

I better not have any classes with this girl; her face leaves my stomach in knots.

Just great! She drops her disproportionate figure in the rickety wooden chair in front

of me; the chair barely surviving.

I balled up a sheet of paper and aimed for the back of her head as soon as the teacher turned his head to the board.

She just looked at me and smiled.

Eww! She’s going to try and “kill me with kindness”; how cute.

Before I knew it, the class was over and I moved to my next class; gym.

I made sure I knocked the books out of her hand on my way out the door; dragging her bag with my feet as I shuffled past her. Turns out round face has gym with me too. Wonderful!

I destroyed her clothes when I snuck in the girls’ locker room. The next class, I put frogs in her locker. The following gym class I put mayonnaise in her gym shoes. I made the entire school hate her. Each day, I harassed her a little more and the rest of the school followed. I even made a hate account on twitter and spent evenings tweeting about her. The twitter account alone had over five thousand followers. Every tweet had hundreds of reposts and the school got a kick out of it. The popular girls ruined her social life on and offline between facebook and instagram, the teachers were hard on her and her family wouldn’t let her change schools, the principal could care less if she stayed or left, it didn’t make a difference.

Months had passed and I was just as surprised at my classmates to see she was still here.

I knocked her books out of her hand one last time, defaced her property one last time, threw makeup at her one last time, called her names one last time, I sabotaged her school projects one last time; however I didn’t know this would be the last time.

It was Friday. The last bell of the day finally rang. Our last class has just ended and she just looked at me after I threw a tube of lipstick at her and laughed. Her laugh today wasn’t as comical as it had been all year; it was dry and cold. I didn’t care nor pay her much attention; I only had two days to plan a week’s worth of torture for this rotund and ignorant black girl.

Monday came all too quick but it came nonetheless. I went to gym extra early to put a used tampon in her locker and I hid in the locker across from hers so I could record her reaction to her little present, but she never showed. I left the locker room disappointed and headed to the cafeteria. She was a little on the heavy side so I assumed she’d be stuffing her face instead of rolling across the court in gym in a sad attempt at playing basketball. She wasn’t there either. I was a little worried now; big people don’t miss meals�"on purpose anyways.

I got my food and met up with my friends. I ate my lunch and we discussed tomorrows’ plans. Then there was an interruption as the whole cafeteria fell silent.

The principal called an assembly and the whole school crammed inside the auditorium the following period.

There was a bit of hesitation as our stout principal climbed up the stairs that led onto the stage.

There were tears in his eyes as he loosened his tie. I didn’t notice the news channel crew in the back of the auditorium until I saw a flash. Whatever was going on had to be a big deal. The principal grabbed a newspaper from behind him, I couldn’t see the headline but he read it aloud. “When Classmate Bullies Attack” was the headline and it was about that black girl we spent a majority of the year tormenting. She was tortured here in this very school; she was mocked and ridiculed by the entire student body, and ignored by all the faculty and staff. What I found funny, she found deadly. It was bad enough her father abused her and her mom was a workaholic. None of that mattered anymore though, she committed suicide. I was speechless. I never thought it would come to this; I never thought she would kill herself.

The assembly ended and everyone talked amongst themselves. The news reporters swarmed the auditorium looking for commentary from her peers. No one spoke to the reporters. Her family came in and spoke to the students with hatred in their hearts. Her father killed himself as well and her mother became an alcoholic. Looks like she was the oldest of five kids and they were all in elementary school so they didn’t quite understand where there sister went. This assembly came to an end and we were all sent home. I didn’t want to take a bus home, I walked. The walk home from school wasn’t too long but the streets were always busy so I braced myself for the annoying crossing guards. I turned right onto her street; I wanted to see what her house looked like and if there was any sign of how she killed herself. Amidst my thoughts, I crossed the street but I didn’t see the tractor trailer coming my way. I saw one of her teddy bears being dragged to the curb by her mother as she caressed a candle in the other hand. She was a person just like me. She had a family just like me. She took her life. I mistreated her because she didn’t look like me. One difference opposed to the million similarities we shared; she was human just like me. The truck hit me and I fell to the ground. The driver didn’t stop; her mom didn't move she just screamed. I winced and expected to feel pain but instead I felt nothing but the tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t move. I just laid there confused and lost.

The ambulance came; I was brought to the hospital. The doctor told me I was paralyzed from the waist down and I’ll never walk again. My wheelchair was my only friend; everyone from school distanced themselves from me after the whole thing cleared up. The entire school went to her funeral, the teachers quit their jobs, and the popular girls were now obese and couldn’t stop eating. The principal of the school went bankrupt and her mom turned to alcohol. Her siblings were moved into foster homes because her mom couldn't get it together. Her brothers and sisters didn’t understand what happened until years later. They went on to fight for laws against bullying. Her best friend was an emotional wreck and went to see a therapist four times a week and wished her mom would have let her change schools. She never should have transferred.

Here I am stuck in this wheelchair unable to change my past. I bullied her and led the school on a rampage; ruining everyone’s life… All because she didn’t look like me.

Gripping one wheel on each side as my hands slowly guide my chair

I’m not sure where I’m going, I hope these limp limbs will find a way to get me there…