It was just like any other day at school. Christine and I got down from the school bus and walked our way into the classroom. Like any high school class, my classroom also followed the same stereotype. Teens roaring and shouting with earphones plugged in their ears. But my day is totally different.
Bob Derik, my ten-year-old neighbor succumbed to bullying at his school. He strangled himself with his mom's pajamas. Strange choice of weapon. Well, what can I say, he is a kid after all. Will his mom ever be able to wear pajamas again? I know, that’s a stupid question to ask, considering the situation. Bob had the utter courage to take his own life but was not valiant enough to take on his bullies. This irony keeps bugging me.
We come across kids taking their lives, unable to cope up with bullies daily. Yet we let go of that news within hours or to the max days, from our memories. It never bothers us the way it really should. Does it? Unlike those cases, Bob's case won't fade away from me that easily.
The image of Bob waving at me with his cute smile flashes in front of my eyes hauntingly. It's not something I could wave off and carry on with my daily routine. I used to babysit him. As Mrs. Terrence blabbers with her Math problem, Bob occupies my mind.
I sit along with my gang for lunch at the cafeteria. We are a gang of six girls. We call ourselves de six filles. We decided to add something sexy to our gang name and decided to go French. None in our gang know French. Not even a pint. We had to google it out. After lunch, we walk along the corridors for our class.
Megan and Courtney stand tall over Evangeline on the corridor. I know what is happening. The usual. Tall and muscular built Megan and Courtney have cornered Evangeline against the wall. They were towering over her and hurting poor Evangeline. This bullying routine is usual. We, de six filles do what the others do. Just walk away like we never noticed it. But everyone notices it. That’s the truth. We are all not ready to accept it yet. The fear of being hurt and the human nature of selfishness makes us move along with our eyes shut while being wide open. All we want is not to be in the place of Evangeline. As long as there is a scapegoat and we are not that poor patsy, we are all okay with what is happening.
I try to steal a glance at Evangeline with fear still lingering inside me. I couldn’t spot her beneath those two towering monsters. Being petite Evangeline has been concealed well between her bullies and the wall. In the creak between Megan and Courtney, I see those eyes. The still and fear struck eyes of Evangeline crying for help without shedding a tear. It felt spooky. I sort of felt like she was looking at me. Just at me. Those eyes were piercing me with helplessness, spreading guilt in me.
Quickly I turn away my glance to avoid eye contact. I know those eyes are still haunting me from behind. I pressed the girls to pace up and it was like running away, sacrificing a soul, so that I can survive. I have no idea what good this kind of survival will bring. We were six and outnumber those two bullies, yet we were kept at bay because of fear.
It has been nearly ten minutes since I have settled myself in the class. The girls are chattering sitting around me. I just keep nodding my head absently. My heart now yearns for the safety of Evangeline. What is happening to her? Why is she not yet in the class? Have they locked her up in the gym room locker, again? Have they dipped her head in the toilet, again? Have they stripped her and tied her up inside the boy’s bathroom, again? Or, have they come up with something innovative this time? These things sound perturbing even to think of, but Evangeline has been put through this. Not just once but on multiple occasions.
Just because Megan and Courtney are gigantically built and have been constantly put through violence at home doesn’t give them any right to bully people. Of all, they should know what violence and humiliation would inflict. Evangeline of all has the most heartwarming smile ever. No matter the intensity with which you hurt her, she will always soothingly smile at you. Trust me, no matter what, that smile will make your day.
Evangeline walks in trying to hide the bruises on her arms and constantly wiping off the blood trickling from along the side of her lip. Looking at her the whole class whisper among themselves with no one daring to look at her. I throw a pathetic look towards her. She looks at me but with a smile. That same divine smile. Unfortunately, this time around that smile intrudes me trying to pinch my soul. Oh god, how the hell does she manage to smile after all this hurt and betrayal?
On the way back home in the school bus, all that flashes in my mind is an image where Bob and Evangeline stand alongside each other, smiling and waving at me. That’s when it struck me. Oh my god, what if Evangeline decides to take her life too. Shit, this thought imposed a nauseating feel in me. If she does so, then it definitely is on me. I should have saved her. I should have stood between her and her bullies. At least I must have stood beside her. Alas, I failed to do so. I could have to pay a hefty price for this. Living with guilt over Evangeline’s suicide. I send silent prayers hoping for the worst to not happen.
The night moved eerily quiet outside and with a turmoil running inside. As I close my eyes trying to sleep the spooky image of Bob and Evangeline keeps appearing. Hands down, this sleepless night is definitely by far the longest night of my life. To my relief morning finally arrives. I am anxious about going to school. All the way from the bus to the classroom I hold onto Christine’s hands and walk nervously. There she was, in her beige skirt and a full sleeve loose T-shirt with a hoodie, Evangeline sits at her place fidgeting her fingers over her watch. Seeing me the sweet smile appears on her face, again. My god, how could she? For a brief moment, I brush aside the thought and smiled back at her.
At lunch, Evangeline is nowhere to be seen in the cafeteria. My heart begins racing hard and fast. I started gulping my lunch in a hurry and urge my girls to do the same and quickly grabbed them outside to the corridor. There I spot Evangeline being towered over by Megan and Courtney again. This time I decide to go full throttle at them. Holding back would do no good to anyone anymore. I’m going to pounce on them like a furious cat. I know if I step into this and land myself in danger my girls won’t hesitate a moment to protect me, no matter the consequences lying ahead. They will vouch for me, no questions asked.
I step away from the gang and walk towards those bullies trying to make a furious face. But I fail miserably in making one. I'm not used to these kinds of stull. Still, I keep pacing forward hoping my girls would have sensed by now of what lies ahead. I place my hand hardly over Megan's shoulder. In fact, I have to get on my toes to reach her shoulder.
Megan turns around with pure rage evident on her face. Before I could say something, a deadly blow hits me on my face, partly landing on my nose and partly on my lips. The knuckle has cracked open by lips and the force of the blow threw me on the floor. Blood started dripping from my nose and lips. The blow was from Courtney. She now stood over me twisting her wrists and cracking her knuckles. As Courtney lifts her long legs to crush me under her boots, Christine jumps out of nowhere at Courtney, pulling her down to the floor along with her. Christine starts blowing punches maniacally at Courtney’s face.
Before I could sense what was happening, a group of ten girls has surrounded Megan and Courtney. Punches and kicks were flying from all the directions at Megan and Courtney. Looks they all had grudge against these bullies and all they needed was a start. I felt glad for providing that start.
Evangeline helped me get up. She gently wiped off the blood from my nose with her sleeve. She hugged me like a bolt from the blue. I held her in my embrace, running my hand over her head as tears started rolling along my cheeks.
I think I have ignited a spark of solidarity here. Not those of a political one, but the one that is much needed here in my school. The feeling that I might have saved Evangeline's life made the pain from the blow vanish. I feel like screaming 'Remember my name'. But I didn't. I am Natasha.
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