The Catch

Everyone in school has been talking about Alex's suicide. Almost all of my teachers have had moments of silence for her, they all act like she was their favorite student, a, "bright spot in this dark world". The morning they announced her death all these random kids who didn't even really know her that well just burst in to tears. I'm trying to respect all their feelings, I really am. I, personally, did not know her very well. Really, her death hasn't affected me all that profoundly. It's sad, it really is. But when you come down to it, she's really just going to end up as another statistic.

I don't know what she was trying to escape. I don't suppose anyone really does. But, if I'm honest with you and myself, deep down I don't really care. It seems to me like a disservice to the dead to pretend there was a relationship when there really wasn't. Alex was in two, maybe three of my classes. I only knew her by name. I see all these kids at my school, they all try and talk about what a loss to the world it is. Some of them I'd heard, just three months ago, talking down about her. I didn't stop it, I figured it was none of my business. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but that's not what I'm talking about right now. My point is that if I had committed suicide, I probably would be pretty pissed if I found out that all these people who cared so little while I was alive were using my memory, or lack thereof, to make themselves look like caring people.

This probably doesn't sound like all the other things you've heard about Alex. The other ones were probably written by people closer to her, right? Mine probably doesn't belong in here, but here you are. I guess I figure the best service I can do her memory is to be honest and admit that, in reality, her suicide hasn't actually had much of a profound mark on my life.

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I know it's short. Please take just a minute to comment, constructive criticism is welcome.