The Snake Pit: Jr. High Can Be Torture (6 page)

I thought that was a little strange.  Why on earth would I see Bobby before
Cinda
?  I thought maybe she was thinking of finally leaving school for good.  Who could blame
her
?
  But, I had no idea what she was really thinking.  Before I could ask her about it, visiting hours were over and her mom was there to pick her up.

Before she left, though, she did something she had never done before.  She grabbed my camera, climbed into bed with me, and had her mom take our picture. 
Cinda
did not like getting her picture taken.   She gave me a hug and said goodbye.  “Goodbye.”  Not “see
ya
”. Not “catch
ya
later”.  Not even “see you tomorrow”. 
Just “Goodbye”.

How did I not see it coming?  I was her best friend. I should have been able to stop it. I remember feeling very tired and I fell asleep.  I don't remember anything else until I woke
up later, nurses were running all over the place, and my mom and dad walked into my room.  They were both crying.

Mrs. Carter

All I can tell you is that I picked
Cinda
up from vi
siting Charlie in the hospital,
we had a nice family dinner and
Cinda
went to bed.  When I awoke to the sound of sirens, paramedics were all over my garage, and
Cinda
was not in her room.

I found her note, and I realized that she had been planning this for quite some time.   She studied the whole thing on the
internet,
I believe she even practiced with the rope to get the rope exactly right.  She wanted to make sure that none of her family found her that way, so she waited until we all went to sleep, went out to the garage, called 911 and hung herself.

Now, I ask you, Detective, does this sound normal, or rational to you?  Is this the world we want to live in, where a 12 year old girl is made to feel so bad about herself
by other 12 year old girls that she sees no
way
out but suicide?

People ask me all the time
,
“How are you?”  What they really want to know is, “How can't you talk about this?” 
Like I'm going to forget.
  Talking about it is hard.  Taking my daughter off of life support was hard. Donating my child's organs was hard.  Burying my little girl was hard. But nothing is as hard as the realization that my 12 year old daughter was mentally tortured in a place where she should have felt safe; where people who were supposed to protect her, didn't.  So, I will continue to
talk, and talk, and talk, until every parent, every teacher and every student realizes just how dangerous bullying has become.  I will not allow another child to be a victim.

The time for “kids will be kids” is over.  Kids are capable of so much more. In her note,
Cinda
specifically asked that we donate as many of her organs as possible.  She said she wanted to help as many people as she could so they could be normal.  This is from the girl the other girls referred to as a monster.  Does she sound like a monster to you?

Cinda

Dear Mom and Dad,

I know this is going to be hard for you, but th
is
is what I want. You
know how I
am,
I never do things without thinking them through. This is a choice I am making for
myself,
I just feel I cannot live this life anymore.  You have given me the best life, and I love you all so much and I truly believe we will see each other again someday.

I have planned this out so that hopefully when the paramedics find me, my brain will be dead
and my body will still be alive.  I want you to promise me that you will donate my organs so that people who need them will get a chance at a normal life.  I realized a long time ago that this was not possible for me.  Even if my plastic surgeon had a magic wand, I was never going to look normal. Thought of living the rest of my life with the stares and pointing and giggling is not something I want to consider.  If I could give just one person a chance at a normal life, then my life will not be wasted.

Please tell
charlie
that she was my
best friend ever.  I love her and I will always be with her. Thank her for taking a chance on being my   
friend,
I would not have made it this far without her. I am hoping that Bobby will help her get through this.  They were the only real friends I had here, and I hope they continue to be friends for a long time.

I love you all and I will see you all someday.

All my love,

Cinda
.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Charlie

So, that's our story, Detective.  My folks brought me down to
Cinda's
room to say goodbye.  Her parents were in shock, obviously.  Her sisters moved around like zombies.  She was still alive when I got there, and I sat by her bed and held her hand.  Her doctor said that her brain had died, but they were keeping her heart beating until they could remove her organs for transplant.  I know someday I am going to look at some strangers face and see those beautiful big blue eyes staring back at me.  I don't know if I that's exactly how it works, but I have a feeling I will know.

I guess they brought some “grief-
counselors” into the school to help kids cope with
Cinda's
suicide.  It seems to me that if they had brought a few counselors in to deal with this problem at the very beginning, maybe none of this would've happened.  What do I know, right, I'm just a kid.

They held a memorial service at Hargrove
Jr
High...I did not go.  I didn't feel like watching a bunch of people who didn't know
Cinda
, who didn't care about her, and treated her like garbage, pretend to mourn.  If I want to see an Academy Award performance, I'll rent a movie.

I saw Bobby at the funeral.  He was one of the few kids allowed at the private service.  His family sat with mine behind
Cinda's
family and we cried together.  We said our goodbyes and laid her to rest.  I guess we said
goodbye to a lot of things.  Neither one of us
are
going back to Hargrove, neither was Miss Cavanaugh, or Mr. Anderson, they both took teaching positions out of state.  Principal Martin resigned as well.  I hope whoever takes his place takes the time to listen to his students.  It's really a small thing to ask, and a small thing to do, to listen.  And you never know, maybe that few minutes it takes to listen to someone maybe be all the time you need to save a life.

My parents found a shrink for me to talk to.  It helps some, but mostly I hang out in my room alone.  At first I slept a lot and I would dream of her. In my dreams she's still alive and we are just two regular ordinary 12 year-old girls. In my dreams
Cinda's
face is beautiful, perfect. My therapist
says it
’
s a defense mechanism, my minds way of dealing with my grief.  I think it's more than tha
t.  I think it's
Cinda's
way of
telling me that's she's all right. Yep
…that's what I think
..but
what do I know, right?  I'm just a kid.

Epilogue

The Hargrove Herald

Hargrove...  The Hargrove Police Department announced the arrests of 5 juvenile girls in connection with the tragic suicide of a 12 year-old girl last April.  The girls, all former students of the Hargrove Jr. High, are all charged with menacing, harassment and cyber-stalking in connection with what is being investigated as one of the most extreme case of bullying ever recorded.  If
convicted as juveniles each girl faces a sentence in juvenile detention until they are 18 years old. 
Charges of complicity and obstruction of justice on the parents of one of the teen girls is
still pending further investigation.  The District Attorney has yet to file his motion to charge the girls as adult and it seems unlikely that he will do so.  If convicted as adults, each charge ca
rries a minimum sentence of 18
years.  This case is currently under investigation.