Sticks and Stones

“Monica was the kind of person everyone loved. She was always so full of love, and she always had time for everyone. Not a day will go by that I won’t think of her, and of our friendship,” a blonde girl dressed in the Las Vegas High’s cheerleading uniform sniffled at the front of a packed school auditorium. She reached up to dab her eyes as if on cue and then turned to face the picture of Monica that was set up in the corner of the auditorium.

The entire spectacle made Virginia want to puke.

Monica Vorsey hadn’t been full of love, and she certainly hadn’t had time for everyone. She’d been malicious. She’d been vicious and full of anger and hate at anyone who wasn’t popular; who wasn’t on the cheer squad or one of the sports teams.

Oh, but they couldn’t talk about that here, Virginia thought angrily. It was her memorial. It was her day, just like every day she had been alive had been. Like always, the spotlight was centered on Monica, and it was so wrong. Monica wasn’t who everyone should be thinking about on this Friday afternoon.

“I’ll never understand what drove Max to do what he did,” the blonde cheerleader whispered into the microphone that she was holding. Upon hearing the boy’s name, several of the students yelled out angrily, some saying such hurtful things that made Virginia want nothing more than slap them until they couldn’t see straight.

“I guess I just want to know why he did this; why he took my best friend. Our best friend,” the blonde added. It was almost as though she was enjoying having the student body spite Craig’s name.

The act wouldn’t work on Virginia.

“He was a freak!” Someone yelled out, earning several agreeing responses from the students around him. Tears started to spring from Virginia’s eyes at the insults, and she couldn’t help but feel the anger start boiling up inside her.

This was why Max had done what he’d done. This was why he’d killed Monica on Wednesday afternoon after the bell for lunch had rang.

This was why he’d killed himself, too.

No he wasn’t! Virginia wanted to scream out in anger as she stood up, well aware of the fact that all eyes were on her as she did so. This was unprecedented at Las Vegas High School. Monica never lost the spotlight to anyone, even during her own memorial.

One of the teachers coughed under their breath, and obvious hint that they were warning Virginia to sit down. She refused. Slowly and shakily, she started to walk towards the front of the auditorium. She could almost see the grin that would light Max’s face up if he could see this right now. For years, she’d suffered stage fright. It had been so bad, she couldn’t even give essays to the class.

And here she was, interrupting the beloved Monica Vorsey’s memorial. It was such a non-Virginia thing to do, and yet, it was what she needed to do.

In her hand, she was holding a large, glossed over photo of Max. It wasn’t visible to the student body just yet, but in a few minutes, it would be. She knew that she’d never live this down; that after this moment, she was no longer going to be just a nobody at this high school.

After today, she would become hated. She would become the freak. She would be targeted like Max had been, and she was perfectly fine with that because someone in this goddamn Hell needed to speak up for Max since he couldn’t do it for himself this time.

“What…What are you doing?” The cheerleader asked her as Virginia stepped up to her, taking the microphone from her before she turned to face the packed auditorium.

There were so many people, she thought nervously. So many faces, and none of them friendly. Max’s friends hadn’t come to the memorial. She was the only one here who knew Max for what he had really been; what kind of person he had been.

She needed to share that with these people.

“You all sit here mourning for one dead girl when on Wednesday, there were two lives that were lost,” Virginia whispered into the microphone, tears beginning to coat over her eyes. “How dare you? Max may have made a mistake, but Monica made plenty, too.”

The auditorium was deadly silent as Virginia turned to face the photo of Monica. She was smiling, like she always had. It was a fake smile; one that hid her true, evil intentions. She looked as good as she always had, with perfect makeup and perfect hair and perfect clothes.

She had been as close to perfection as students got in this high school, according to everyone around her. But they were wrong, and she was going to show them that.

“Max was a person, too. He wasn’t just a monster, or a freak. He wasn’t any of the things you’re all calling him. He was a good person, regardless of whether or not you took the time to see that. We’ve spent the last twenty minutes listening to Heather drone on and on about how amazing Monica was; how perfect she was, and how good of a friend she was. It’s all a crock of shit,” she hissed angrily, earning gasps from several of the students and widened eyes from the teachers who sat in their seats, either unwilling to get up and stop her or too shocked to react.

“She was a bitch,” Virginia continued. “She really was. For years before Wednesday, she tormented not only Max, but anyone else in this school that wasn’t just like her, or any of you. For years, she told Max he should kill himself and get it over with. She told him he was worthless, that even his parents didn’t want him. She told him that nobody would blink an eye if he just suddenly stopped showing up at school.”

“Ms. Hopkins, I think—” A teacher in the corner of the room started as she stood up, wanting to stop Virginia from continuing. But Virginia wasn’t going to back down. Not this time; not when she was the only person left who could tell Max’s side of the story.

“You all act like sticks and stones are the only thing that can hurt someone. You act like the words that you all—Monica included—spoke to Max didn’t hurt him. I think you all like to pretend that it’s okay to treat someone like shit, just as long as it keeps you in good social standing here at school. But you’re wrong. It wasn’t the sticks and stones that killed Max, and it wasn’t the gun he shot himself with. It was you, and it was Monica and it was every nasty word you ever spoke to him.”

“That’s enough, Ms. Hopkins,” the principal cleared his throat as he stood up, walking up to the front of the auditorium. Virginia narrowed her eyes at him and then shook her head, holding her ground as she walked over to the beautiful photograph of Monica. In one quick movement, she knocked the photo off the stand, earning several gasps from the students in attendance and then replaced it with the photo she’d had made of Max.

It was the last picture that had ever been taken of him. He was sitting in an old swing in her backyard. There was no fakeness in his smile, with his slightly crooked teeth and bright hazy green eyes. His happiness in that moment had been truly sincere. It was the Max she wanted everyone here to know.

She wanted them to know that Monica wasn’t the only victim in the situation.

“This is my best friend in the entire world,” she hissed at the students in the microphone. The principal stood near her, though he hadn’t made a move towards her yet. He was probably just as big a coward as the rest of them, she thought sourly. Probably didn’t want to make a huge scene even bigger than it already was.

“His name was Maxwell Scott Green, and he was only seventeen years old. When he was five years old, we met in my backyard after he threw a ball and hit me in the stomach. We were best friends until the day he died. I’m not going to sit here and say he was right in killing Monica, because he wasn’t. He made a mistake by hurting her, and I realize that. But I also realize that this boy,” Virginia whispered, her voice cracking and tears spilling out of her eyes. “This boy was the best friend anyone in the world could have asked for. He was there for me when nobody else in this school was. He never let me down and now, I’m not going to let him down, either.”

“Ms. Hopkins, I—” The principal started before Virginia glared in his direction.

“No, I’m not going to stop, Mr. Watson,” she told the older man before she walked over to where a small table was set up, a CD already inside it and ready to play. It was a mix of Monica’s favorite songs and they were supposed to be played during a video memorial that would play after people stopped coming up to say how great she’d been and how much she’d be missed.

Without even thinking, Virginia reached inside the CD player and grabbed the CD, snapping it in half before she walked over to another table, where the VCR was hooked up to the projection screen that would have shown Monica’s video memorial.

“I’ve said all that I can say for Max. I know that nothing I say is going to change your mind. You’re all going to think what you think regardless. You’ll all forget about him and move on. He’s just going to be a distant memory in a year or so, and after that you’ll never think about him again. But me? I’m never going to move on. I’m never going to heal, or find closure for his death. I’ll never feel okay again. But if I can’t change your mind about him…Maybe he can,” she told her fellow classmates as she turned around to face them. Not a sound could be heard as she reached inside the pocket of the jacket she was wearing—one of Max’s old ones—to pull an unlabeled DVD out.

“This is the last thing Max ever did before coming to school on Wednesday,” she explained to the auditorium as she placed it inside the DVD player. A blue screen played for a few moments before a still shot of Max’s face came up, an arrow in the middle indicating that she needed to push the play button.

“He made this video on Tuesday night. After you all watch this, you can go back to your fake memorial for your fake friend. But for right now, you’re going to give me, and the rest of Max’s friends, the same opportunity you have all been given. Max was a nobody to you, but he was a somebody to us.”

She didn’t say another word as the doors at the back of the auditorium opened up, a small group of kids clad in black leather and ripped denim walking in. No one knew any of their names, and yet they were all notorious in the school. They were the unworthy ones; the outcasts.

The ones no one cared about.

The group didn’t say a word as they walked to the empty row of seats that was arranged on the side of the auditorium. They had been reserved for Monica’s closest friends in school, but they’d chosen instead to mingle with the rest of the student body. When all of the chairs were filled up, the rest chose to stand behind the chairs, eyes focused on Virginia as she pushed the play button. It didn’t take more than thirty seconds for Max’s familiar voice to fill the auditorium, a haunted feeling settling over the room as everyone watched the video and listened to him speak.

“I’m not sure what’s going on in my head. Everything is so jumbled, so crazy,” were the first words that Max spoke. Virginia pulled her hand to her mouth to stop the sob from sounding out before she felt a hand rest soothingly on her shoulder. When she turned around, she cracked half a smile when she realized that it was another of Max’s friends, Ronnie.

“Today, I got a letter in my mailbox. It was the strangest thing, because I never get mail except for at Christmas, when Grandma Green sends me cards and shit,” Max half-laughed, though the look on his face was showing anything but humor. He looked pained; he looked hurt.

He looked broken, and that devastated Virginia all over again.

“This letter,” Max said after several moments of silence in which he seemed to be distracted, his eyes darting around the room before he finally settled himself down again enough to speak. “This letter is just one of four or five that I’ve gotten in the last year. They’re all from this girl at school, Monica. At first, I just…wrote it off because y’know, what kind of man lets a fucking letter make him cry?”

The tone in his voice as he said those words caused Virginia to clench her hands in fists before she blinked away the tears, her eyes watching Max’s video carefully.

“Dear Max, it opens with. Dear Max, are you cutting yourself tonight? Are you contemplating suicide again? You really should. No one would miss you, Max, it says. Right here, see?”

The sound of paper crinkling sounded throughout the auditorium before Max lifted the paper to the camera lens. It was a bit blurry, but there was no mistaking the words written across the signature pink paper that Monica had been known to use for anything that wasn’t a school assignment. It made Virginia’s blood boil.

This bitch was getting a memorial and Max was getting ostracized, and it pissed her off. Where was the justice in this world?

“Dear Max, it continues. Dear Max, you’re such a fucking faggot. It’s no wonder you always have your Mommy and Daddy write letters for you to get out of gym. It’s probably to hide how gay you are, isn’t it? Dear Max, it says after that,” Max whispered, his voice now strained as he continued reading through the letter. “Dear Max, everyone would be better off without you. Nobody would miss you, it says. No one cares about you, it reads. No one wants you around.”

For several minutes, the only sound on the video was Max crying as he crumpled the pink letter before he ripped it, tossing it in the corner of the room. He stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in and the camera filmed as he kicked the bed, punched his wall, and then finally as he broke down in tears on the chair again, his hazy green eyes red-lined with hurt and anger as he spoke again.

“I don’t know why I’m recording this video. Maybe it’s my own eulogy, maybe it’s a suicide note. Maybe it’s neither of those things. I guess you need people that care about you to leave a suicide note, and I just…” he trailed off before picking up several minutes later. “I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take the pain, the humiliation. I can’t handle the abuse anymore. If anybody’s watching this, it’s because I’m dead. I will have killed myself by the time anybody sees this. I just wanted someone to know, I guess. I wanted someone to see my side of it; to know my story,” he added in a whisper before he held up a picture of himself when he’d been little.

“This is me, when I was four years old. The dog is Rumples, and he was the best dog I ever had. He died when I was ten, because some asshole hit him with his car and didn’t stop. That’s what I’m looking forward to most, in death. I’ll get to be with Rumples again,” he muttered, reaching to wipe away a few stray tears before he held up another photograph. This one was a little later in life, though he still appeared to be young.

“This is me, in the sixth grade at a picnic our class had. You can’t see anybody else around because nobody else wanted to be around me. You see the black eye?” He whispered as he pushed the photo even closer to the screen. “Brody gave me that. His excuse was that me having long hair was a girl thing. Mr. Watson was the teacher then, not the principal. He just told Brody to apologize. I was the one who got sent home. I was the one who got in trouble. And for what?” Max asked, his voice growing louder with anger.

Virginia looked over at Mr. Watson, who was standing speechless as he too watched the video. There was discomfort on his face, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered the picnic. She remembered, though she hadn’t been allowed to attend because she hadn’t been in school that day.

Another photograph was lifted to the screen, and when she saw it, she couldn’t stop the sob from falling from her lips, knees going weak. Ronnie stopped her from falling to the ground, and she let her eyes study the photograph briefly.

“This is me, earlier this year. I was in the hospital in this, which is why I look so fucking high,” Max explained the reason he was in a white dressing gown, tubes inserted into his hands and a breathing mask over his face. “This is the reason I never showed up for that week we were doing homecoming earlier this year. I tried to kill myself, after receiving one of the letters. I slit my wrists and took a shitload of my Mom’s sleeping pills. I fucking failed, obviously, because I’m still here. At least, for a few more hours. This time, I won’t fail. I’ve failed at everything else in this life, but not this time.

This time I have a gun,” Max told the screen before he reached into a drawer, holding up the gun for the camera to see before he set it to his temple. Virginia flinched as he struggled mentally, tears falling out of his eyes as he tried to pull the trigger before he set the gun down, his face distraught.

“This time, I’m going to really go through with it. I’m shooting myself tomorrow, and I’m going to die. I’m…I’m seventeen years old, not even fucking old enough to smoke. And I’m going to die.”

With nothing else to say, Max turned the camera off and the screen went blank, leaving the entire room in complete silence. A pin could have been heard if it had been dropped, and no one said a word. No one knew what to say.

“Those were Max’s last words,” Virginia whispered in a cracking voice as she walked back to the front of the auditorium. “I’m seventeen years old, not even fucking old enough to smoke. And I’m going to die,” she repeated his final words, almost as though she wanted them to sink in before she let out a gut-wrenching sob as she threw the microphone down, no longer needing it to be heard.

“I don’t care what any of you say about Max. I know it’s not true. You can say that he was a freak; that he deserved what he had coming. You can say he was evil and that he should have died sooner, so that your precious Monica would have been spared. But if you do, you’re more heartless than I ever thought. You’re the murderers here, not Max. And if you can’t see that, you’re blind, too.”

She didn’t say another word as she stormed out of the auditorium, well aware of the fact that the entire student body that had been present was still silent, trying to comprehend what they had just been shown.

Virginia didn’t know what else she was supposed to do as she ran towards the only place she could think of—the large oak tree behind the football field that Max and the others had always hung out at during the classes they should have been attending. Once she got there, her heart sank even more, realizing that now, Max was never going to be at the tree again.

Max was gone and he wasn’t coming back. He was never going to get a chance to make his band famous like he’d always wanted to. He was never going to get to travel the world, or become someone’s hero. Hell, he was never going to turn eighteen. There were a lot of things Max was never going to get to do and it just wasn’t fair.

She hated that it had needed to come to this for everyone around Max to realize their mistakes in treating him the way they had. Everyone would always blame him for Monica Vorsey’s death; Virginia knew that, and she wasn’t trying to change that. He had killed her, that was a fact.

But it was also a fact that she’d had a hand in killing him, too.

Her years of torment, her stupid letters and the horrible names she’d called him ever since elementary school were what had caused the irreparable damage. Her bullying was what had caused Max to make the choice on Wednesday morning to take a gun to school and end two lives. Sticks and stones hadn’t been able to end Max’s life, but the power of words had.