I often think about Jason. He made the mistake of confessing to his best friend. Only the friend wasn’t ready for that kind of truth. He was in denial; was afraid of what everyone else would think. How they’d react. So he’d pushed him away. Mocked him. Got drunk and outed him. It only took four weeks from when the bullying started. A nine-year-old boy found him hanging from a tree; the same place he’d confessed. The boy’s probably scarred for life. I guess that’s better than no life. I still struggle with the guilt. And I’m still in denial.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
oh, that's chilling, Rob. And I think, sadly, that it does happen that way all too often. You portray it really effectively.
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