Going to school used to be my favorite routine. Especially as a graduating student, I wanted to get closer to my classmates. Inside our classroom, I was one of the class clowns and storytellers, but more on the quiet side.
Before the mess went down that day, we were already planning what games to play. I was a playful kid, but I wasn't one of those they'd straight up ask to join; either I'd include myself, or my friend would invite me. I was good at games, so I didn't really care what they thought of me.
I don't know about them, but I considered each and every one of my classmates as my friends. Civil friends. We had already gone through so much together, so I sincerely considered them my friends.
By the time our class ended, we went to the open space at the back of our school. They even invited their friends from different sections. I was bothered because they didn't invite me, but I didn't mind it.
Of course, something stupid ruined our fun. It rained. Our teacher texted our parents to pick us up since it was pretty heavy.
There was a group of friends, the popular kids in our classroom, who still hadn't gone home. We stayed inside the classroom, but the rain got even heavier, so going home by ourselves wasn't recommended.
Someone broke our silence.
“Let's play a game.”
“What game?”
“Truth or dare.”
I wasn't supposed to join them, but I got called a killjoy for rejecting their offer.
I didn't really relate to their questions and dares, so I just pretended to laugh at their antics.
The truth or dare wasn't done by spinning a bottle; it was just taking turns in a circle.
In the second round, that's when things went bad. They decided to just play all truths in that round because no one had the courage to choose dare. Again, I didn't relate to their questions, especially since they were about the people we liked.
When it was my turn, I answered honestly. They didn't believe me, of course. So, I just told them I'd choose dare and would actually do what they said.
“Dare”
“Jump.”
“What?”
“Jump off the railings, hit the ground.”
I shut up. I looked at them, and they were staring back, provoking me while laughing.
I don't know what hit me. I just followed where my feet wanted to go. Outside our classroom, facing the rain, holding the railings. I looked back to see them watching me from the windows, snickering.
I smiled at them.
As I went closer, I looked at the ground. I thought to myself, this is stupid, what am I thinking?
But I found myself waking up to their screams.
I was already lifting myself over the green railings, carrying myself. I looked at the ground; it was almost invisible, shrouded in fog from the rain.
I looked up and saw how strong the rain was. Somehow, it reminded me of myself. Weeping, raging, falling, falling to the ground.
When I came back to reality, I was already outside the wall and railings, standing on the small pavement by the wall. I looked at the ground again. I knew jumping from a two-story building wouldn't kill me. But I was taunted. I wanted to jump so badly.
I stepped one foot off the pavement. Those seven minutes flashed before me. I suddenly thought of my mom, fetching me from school in the heavy rain only to find her daughter lying on the ground, her blood washed away by the rain. Then I thought about my dad, who wasn't there much but was working somewhere for us.
Next thing I knew, I climbed back and wiped my wet uniform. I saw our classroom cleaner looking at me. I smiled at her and told her not to share this story with our teacher.
I went back to the classroom. It all happened fast. They yelled and screamed at me that it was just a joke. I laughed it off.
“Kidding, I was joking. I only did that to scare you.”
As they continued to play the game, I sat in silence, smiling to myself. I had almost lost me. I almost lost myself fully. That was when a part of me died.
Friends don't joke about killing yourself, right? So why did they?
I was in 6th grade when this happened. I was 12. I wished never to see them again. They're all doing well now, and I'm still stuck here, the mess they didn't create but started. I was a mess. I am a mess.
No one knew about this event except those who witnessed it. Not even my close friend knew about it. We just kept it to ourselves and never talked about it again.
I was a happy kid, turning everything positive even when it wasn't okay. I lost that part of me; I couldn't look people in the eyes after that. The pandemic helped me regain a little part of myself from 6th grade, but that was it.
“You are still healing from the wounds you didn’t deserve, and that’s okay.”
