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When is it Too Far?
When is it Too Far?
“No, Allie! Please, stop!” I shouted as I sprinted through the old, run-down barn. I was too late. She had already kicked the stool out front under her. The rope had kept her dangling there, like a helpless mouse in a trap.
Allie and I weren’t too good of friends, but sometimes we would talk in Art class. I had received a message from her earlier that morning just simply saying, “Goodbye.” I asked what she meant by that and she replied with, “You won’t see me anymore.” My sister drove me to her house. The only reason I knew where she lived was because she had ridden my bus. I ran inside frantically asking her parents where she was. Krista and Matthew Kline, Allies parents, were under the influence of one thing or another. They had no idea what I was even talking about. I looked out the window and saw the barn door just slightly cracked. I ran out the front door busting through the barn. That is when I saw what I saw. A thousand memories had come fluttering back.
Allie Kline had been bullied everyday of her life. People called her a slut, disgusting, worthless. I never took part in the name calling, but I never stopped it either. What could I have done? I didn’t want to ruin my reputation for someone I barely knew. I realize now how selfish that was of me. I guess I never noticed how much she was hurting. Everyone saw the black eyes and bruises she came to school with. No one questioned them. Everyone saw the cuts on her arm. No one let up.
The sad thing is, she had not enough self-esteem to stand up for herself. Not once did she tell people to stop. She never told people they were only rumors. Allie never slept with that boy, she knew it and he knew it. He ruined her when he decided to spread that around the school. She never said a word about it though. Why? I’m not sure. She believed what everyone had to say. She believed she was worthless. She thought no one cared. Well, that’s because no one really did. Her parents hit her. Not a soul stood up for her. No one stood against her bullies. Not the teachers, not the counselor, not her church, not other students, and unfortunately, not me either.
I don’t know how I could let this happen. Why wasn’t I there for her? Why didn’t I stand against the crowed? The feeling I had in the pit of my stomach the moment I saw her still flies back every time I hear her name. The sensation of guilt still overcomes my mind when I see a picture of her. There was so much I could have done. I just had to be there for her. I just had to tell them to stop. In that moment, even though I did not take part in bullying her, I was just as guilty as those who bullied her, because I said not a word to stop it. Allie Kline, forever rest in peace.
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