I Know What You're Going Through

(Rose)

I’ve been bullied since I was in 5th grade, middle school.

You think I would be numb by now, but 5 years later, the words still hurt.

Being called oxymoron and redundant names never seems to old for them.

But mainly, it’s this one guy.

Pete

He’s the one that starts the teasing.

He’s the one whose words hurt the most.

And it’s not because I secretly find him extremely attractive, or that he can be a nice guy.

It’s because, we used to be friends. From my earliest memory, I’ve know Pete. We’re
neighbors and our mothers are the bestest of friends.

My mother refuses to believe that Pete would do anything wrong, and can’t image the whole bullying thing.

Of course little perfect Peter wouldn’t do anything wrong.

Pete is an honor student, class president, all state soccer star, and the most popular boy in
the grade, maybe even the school.

But me, I am an A-C student, engrossed myself in music rather than school work, hated almost everyone at New Trier, with the exception of Joe Trohman, and most people hated me.

The reason why Pete and I stopped being friends, I guess, was because he became more involved in soccer, and I got more involved in my music.

Pete became the cool, hot, wealthy, soccer player in high.

And I was labeled as the less cool younger sister of Chrysanthemum. (Our parents used to be hippies and had this thing with naming their daughters after flowers. But my lucky brother got the name William.)

Chrysanthemum was my older sister who was two years older, head cheerleader, and the most popular person ever. She was my polar opposite and made me completely sick.

My parents always compared me to her. It’s great for my already nonexistent self-esteem.

(Pete)

I guess you could say I have a good life.

I’m an all state soccer star. I’m class president. I’m an honor student. I’ve college scouts
begging me to come to their school. My dad’s a lawyer, so I have a pretty nice allowance.

But I have few real friends. I used to have one real friend. Rose

But I ruined that. I became the asshole that I currently am.

I began to ignore her, and then, prompted by my new “friends” I began teasing her, which
turned into full blown bullying.

I felt horrible for doing it, but I wanted to fit in.

And it didn’t seem to brother her.

If it really did, her older brother, William, would have come and kicked my ass by now.

But I still wanted to be friends with her.

Actually, I wanted to be more than friends with her.

I always kind of liked her like that.

She never thought that she was pretty enough, always comparing herself to her older sister.

But I would always tell her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

She would just giggle and laugh. And say “Stop it, Pete.”

I always meant it.

Everyone thought her sister was prettier, or hotter, or easier. And that’s why they liked Chrys,
as we called her. (Pronounced like Chris)

But I became an asshole, and Rose stopped caring.

But Chrys, who used to hate me, seemed to love me.

I think it’s just because we ran in the same groups, I highly doubt that she genuinely likes
me.

(Rose)

It’s really hard to hate someone when all your best memories are with that person.

The best times of my life, were all with Pete.

Falling asleep in my backyard under the stars, me learning my first song on the guitar, my
first crush, and my first kiss; all things I should be able to look back at and smile.

But when I look back at them, I cry.

Because they were all with Pete, he was there for all of them.

And it wouldn’t be that bad. I mean, I don’t have to think about those things.

But, seeing him every day that is bad

I have at least half of my classes with him.

Why the hell is smart? Doesn’t having your head that far up your head up ass mess with
your brain at least a little bit?

But just because we’re in classes together, that doesn’t mean we’ve talked, ever.

My mother always asks about him, and I lie and say only good thing about perfect little Peter.

(Pete)

To say I missed Rose is to put things lightly.

I used to be able to tell her everything and anything.

Now I can’t even say “hi” without starting world war three.

I see her every day, but I’m not able to say anything. It’s like I have duck tape on my mouth, and the only thing preventing me from ripping it off, is myself.

I just wish everything could go back to normal, the way things are supposed to be.

I hope I changed that all this year. It’s our sophomore (second) year of high school, and I want to put this bullshit behind us, and have fun.

I want to win back Rose. And I want her to be back.

And I know just how to….

(Rose)

I could care less if I ever talk to Pete again. But I do dream about having long meaning conversations that put Romeo and Juliet’s to shame.

But those are just dreams.

I just pray for them to come true.

Where everybody else doesn’t matter suddenly

Where it’s just me and Pete under the stars again

Where we can live like Jack and Sally

But, like I said, those are dreams.

But maybe, just maybe, by the end of the year, they will be realities.