“I’m sure somewhere in my teenage heart I was thinking… game on. Then things went from bad to worse . I promptly did what any teenage girl would do… burst into inconsolable sobs by my locker in the hallway of our high school.”
‘The rumor mill was going full swing. I was a 14-year-old girl anxious to yell my lungs out and spend as much time with the football players as possible.’
‘I drove by the cemetery where I buried my best friend. I walked briskly to the place I remembered, but couldn’t find his headstone. Hot, surging anger coursed through my body.’
“I paced a few hundred yards along the plot, sure it was there. But none of the names on the headstones were his. My anger brought a prick of tears to my eyes. Grief struck. Maybe it was the next plot over? But the next plot didn’t reveal his headstone either.”
‘I was trying to look cool in front of my friend. ‘I hate this car. It’s dumb.’ I vividly remember Billy gently running his left hand over the dashboard and softly saying, ‘I think it’s nice.’
“There was this kid in my class named Billy. His family must have struggled financially. I know he was often forgotten at school pickup. One day, we were bringing him home. We had this Chevrolet minivan. It was gold. It wasn’t fancy, or flashy. It had cloth seats and probably the bare minimum. It was just a minivan, but it worked.”
‘Please come pick up your son. He isn’t a good fit.’ He was there 3 hours before we got the call.’
“A good fit. I’ve rolled the words over and over again in my mind. In a matter of one conversation over lunchtime, they determined him ‘unfit’ and ‘too much’ for their school.”
‘That girl wears so much makeup, she must be high maintenance. She’s pretty, so she’s dumb. I see an awful lot of claws out.’
“Growing up, I was often complimented that I was ‘not like other girls’. I loved to play sports, crack jokes and hang out with my brother’s friends. I put my hair in a pony tail and wore blue jeans. And I wasn’t like other girls. Because other girls were… Hmm. I don’t know, exactly.”
‘There are police officers in the hall. ‘I want them to hurt me, mommy! I want them to kill me with their guns!’ He started crying and hitting himself in the head.’
“‘I think he’s manic,’ I say. ‘His moods are rally erratic and I’m worried.’ The nurse looks at me skeptically. Who am I to know about ‘mania?’ It was stupid to bring him here. He has been through hell.”
‘Mrs. Fey, I’m sorry for getting in a fistfight during algebra, then calling you the B-word for breaking it up. And what did you do? You showed up at 7 a.m. to work with me one-on-one.’
“My parents were divorced, my father was addicted to painkillers. He was in jail most of high school. My mother and I weren’t getting along. None of this justifies how I acted, and it wasn’t your problem. You made my difficult life bearable.”
‘My principal emailed me. She added another student to my roster. ‘But come talk to me when you get a chance. I have to tell you her story.’ Rewind 7 years.’
“She saw the terror in my eyes. The office lady leaned in to whisper, ‘The guidance counselor will be in shortly.’ He just stood there. Looking up at me with his big, empty, chocolate eyes. In that moment, I could peek into his soul. I knew I was in that classroom, at that moment, for him.”
‘You have to choose right now. Me or him.’ That was the last time I saw my brother alive.’: Woman battles 10-year addiction after brother’s death, starts ‘new chapter’ after near-death experience
“He was coming home from a party after drinking more than he should have. He lost control of the car. It was an eerily morning knock. There stood my mom and Papaw. ‘You brother’s been in an accident. He didn’t make it.’ Instead of reaching for closure and clarity, I reached for the bottle. I was well on my way to being the last living child for my parents to bury.”
‘Thank you my grandfather, who sexually abused me for years. You taught me how to protect my children. You taught me the good and bad in the world. That bad exists, but it never wins.’
“Thank you my ex-boyfriend, who cheated and treated me like I was never good enough or thin enough. If it wasn’t for you, I would have never known my true worth, and that I would never tolerate being treated that way again.”
