The Other Side

Its a story about a girls suicide and it includes the point of view of the bullier and the bullied. It is fiction, but could very well be true.


2. My Dark Candle


I saw her jump.  My heart fell with her as I realised what I had been doing to that poor defenceless person.

The jokes I had made, the punches I had thrown, with anger that wasn’t meant for her but anger that needed to be let out.

I remember that first day I saw her and the jealousy I felt.  The way she just smiled all day as if she didn’t have a care in the world.  The way she always kept positive. 

I was so angry that someone could have a life like that, while I’m stuck in a home where both parents had experienced the coldness of a cell.

I remember the first time I spoke a bad word against her.  “Ugly” I had told my friends as she walked past.  I saw the hurt in her eyes.  I felt so proud, to make her feel how I have felt for all the days of my life – worthless. 

Every day when I added more hurt in those innocent eyes I thought I was becoming bigger – getting stronger.  But really she was a much better person then me.  She kept going, she didn’t stop. 

I remember I got so angry one day that instead of an insult coming out, my fist hurt her instead.  I remember seeing the surprise in her face – the tears well up in her eyes.  I expected to be expelled the next day – to have the principal come and tell me about how she had narked – but it never came.  She was a silent and innocent lamb. 

I started to do it more often when I realised there would be no consequence for me.  I remember being surprised at my guilt I felt when she stopped smiling at school. 

I remember, one day, noticing a poster in our classroom, saying

“Don’t blow out my candle to make yours glow brighter”

But they have got it all wrong.  My light didn’t grow brighter – it grew dark like the person I was becoming. 

And this dark person I had become led me to follow this girl – to see if I could get one more punch out of her before the end of the day, which I now realised was to be the end of her life.

I was surprised though, when I soon realised she wasn’t walking her usual way home and the moment I saw her step up to that ledge I froze.  It’s like everything inside me shattered like her tear drops that splattered onto the concrete below. 

I soon found myself crying when I realised that this girl, the girl I had been bullying for this past year, was going to be killed because of something I had done.

And when I saw her step over the ledge, I started to scream – to tell her to stop, when I realised, something so terrible, so horrid;

I realised I didn’t even know her name.

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