i knew this girl once, even if only for a little while. she always wore sweaters and jeans, even in the summer. she didn't talk much, but when she did, it was a mere whisper. i'd see her crying sometimes. i never asked her why.
for awhile, she stopped coming to school. i found out she'd attempted suicide. when she got out of rehab, she was back for one week. then she was gone for good. i found her obituary in my desk drawer the other day. after she died, people around school started saying her dad was an abusive alcoholic and her mom died three years prior. i don't understand why they never helped her if they knew all that. i don't understand why i never helped her either. anyone could see that she was brokenness.