Thy Upperclassman

“If I told you to go jump off a bridge, would you?”

“Hey, Upperclassmen Anya, could you not sexually harass me so blatantly?”

“Ah! I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere. A real feeling of regretting what she said in her voice. “Would it have been better if I just said go die?”

"..."

I was sure she meant it. In that one millisecond before she changed her mind. I’m sure she really did feel bad for asking me to die.

“Maybe asking you to kill yourself is too strong a request?” See? I knew she was only joking. “Maybe asking you to make someone hate you so much they'd commit murder would be better.”

"..."

I-I’m sure that’s a joke too.

“I’m sure it wouldn't be hard for you. After all at least four fifths of the class hates you enough not to invite you to the party at Susan Keith’s house tonight.” She said it offhandedly. Like it wasn’t a big deal I was clearly being hated by the whole class. “Oh, don't worry about the ten or so people that don't hate you but didn't tell you. Of course they weren't invited either.” Is this some type of new bullying?! Who cares about the others that didn't get invited?! What about me! Why wasn't I invited?!

“What about you? I’m sure you’re one of those ten or so people like me!” My voice was hysterical. I sounded pathetic, even to my own ears.

Swiftly, she bent over the chair she was sitting in and reached into the bag that was lying on the floor next to her, she retired a piece of paper and handed it to me.

I read the paper handed to me and reread it and reread it and reread it and reread it.

In a way, much like a child throwing a tantrum, I balled up the flyer and tossed it on the ground. I didn't need to stomp on it.

But I did.

Over and over and over again.

“Destroying it won't change reality.” She was sitting in her desk. Though class was long over, the school almost empty, she was still sitting in her desk. Five rows from the blackboard, two rows from being in the back of the class, next to a window. A good seat. I was always jealous of those with window seats.

“What if I destroy reality? Will that change it? Will I stop being hated?!”

“This brings us to the reason I want you to kill yourself.” A forced subject change. Were my questions really that hard to answer?

“I promised I would go to the movies with you tonight but I’m not going anymore.”

“Where will you be then?” I asked even though the answer was obvious.

“I'll be at the party, of course.” As expected.

She seemed hesitant to say whatever it was she wanted to say next. The way she kept glancing at me from the corner of her eye making me feel just as anxious.

“There was a plus one on the flyer.” I knew this, having read it, of course I knew.

!

Wait! Could she be asking me to be her plus one?! Was all that talk about killing myself just her way of hiding embarrassment?

“I should get this out of the way now – I’m not bringing you.”

"..."

“It would be embarrassing showing up with the only person not invited in the whole class.” She was feeling embarrassment in the wrong places. “People might start hating me like they hate you”

Wait!

What did she just say?

“Only?! What about the ten or so other people like me?!”

“Of course that was lie.” She sounded insulted. Even though she put the idea in my head, she sounded insulted I thought there could be others like me, people just as hated. “I said that to make you feel better. I never thought you would believe it.” She was laughing. Anya was laughing at me.

“Putting that aside,” can we really just put a subject like that aside?! Can we really just skip over the fact I’m being hated to this extent? “To make me feel better about ditching you to go to the party – can you kill yourself?”

Eh?!

My death is only worth her not feeling guilty? Was I really born into this world only meaning that much?!

“I’d feel like a bad friend – leaving you home alone on a Friday night when clearly the only friend you have in this whole world is me.” Isn't that wrong?! Isn't the fact that you want me dead to lessen your guilt, the reason you're a bad friend?

“So please,” She sounded scarily happy. “Won't you just die for a night?” Is that how death works?! Will I really come back to life after the night is over? Is that okay?!

“It’s fine.” I say feeling strangely tried all of a sudden. Maybe I was getting sick? “I’ll be fine. Go and enjoy the party. You going won’t make me feel sad or lonely. I just want you to have fun.” The smile I tried to show Anya seemed strangely weak too. Maybe I really was getting sick.

Anya watched me out the corner of her eyes, her head resting on her palm, a bored look on her face. The classroom seemed terrifyingly quiet without her voice to fill it. The sound of her slow steady breathing and my slightly erratic breathes doing little to ease the new found tension.

Suddenly Anya rolled her eyes and sighed. A real long tired kind of sigh. The kind of sigh you get when a child is throwing a tantrum in front of you. Or when something or someone you didn't want to deal with anymore was in front of you.

Was I that something for Anya?

“How can you expect me to have fun at the party…when you’re seeing me off with that kind of face?” That kind of face? Was there something wrong with my face? “You like you’re about to cry.” She said it at such a perfect time, I found myself wondering if she could read minds. Or maybe I was just that transparent.

“Stu~pid! If Mama Anya going out to play and leaving her baby alone makes you feel that sad just tell me not to go.”

Would that really work?

What if I told her to stay and she started hating me like the rest of the class? What if whatever made the others hate me infected Anya?

There were to many what ifs.

Shouldn’t it be okay to just say what I felt at times like these?

At times were speaking your heart counted most.

“Don’t go. Let’s just go to the movies like we planned before, okay?”

“Wow.” Anya sounded truly shocked. “Don’t you even have an ounce of shame? Aren’t you embarrassed at your age to beg someone not to leave you with such a pathetic face?” As expected. I shouldn’t have said anything.

“I mean I told you to do it but…you really said it, huh? How does it feel to throw away your dignity as a human being for such a small price?”

".............."

I think I just lost two important things for humans to have: one – apparently my dignity and two – my trust in others.