“My name is Celia, I’m 21 years old, and I killed my best friend.” The audience gasps in horrified shock, whispers take to the crowd, and soon the principal is stepping in, trying to calm the near hysterical group. Even the teachers stare with surprise. They of course weren’t told of this, but the principal and the school board were. Hopefully, no one will call the police on me.

The silence is there once again, the principal has finally managed to sedate their young minds. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and step towards the mike once again.

“Her name was Samantha Jamie Silver. She was a 16 years old sophomore at Heartland High when she committed suicide. I know that I have confused you. I just told you I killed her, and now I’m saying that she committed suicide. How could that be my fault? It’s my fault because I never said anything, not once.”







The students of Amery High School all stare at me, captivated. In my hand I hold a picture of Sam’s smiling face. The picture has been projected behind me; I don’t have to look to know that it’s, Samantha and I at her 16th surprise birthday party. She has blue icing from her cake on the very tip of her nose, a wide grin showing perfect teeth, and her beautiful jade green eyes that glowed with joy. She was really something. Grief chokes me, and I try to speak about my friend.

“The two girls in this picture were best friends. The girl to your left, that’s Sam. The girl on the right is me.”











I let the words settle into their minds. I remember that day, all the time I spent with her mom and dad planning and scheming behind her back. The look on her face was worth every minute. Breathe, I tell myself. It should be easier because I’ve made this speech a thousand times, but each time is like ripping off a band aid. You can never tear it off quick enough, and it still leaves behind a stinging pain. I set out towards the mike and into the blinding light again.

“She was smart and beautiful. She made varsity freshman year for volleyball, and basketball. When Sam walked into the room…. It was like a light went on for everyone. It was the best times of my life, when Sam was my best friend. No one really know when the bullying started. It was little stuff really, nothing too big. A little teasing from the older girls, but then it got worse before anyone really realized it was happening. People who never uttered a word to her were starting to push and shove her into lockers. They called her stupid, ugly and other horrible names that should never be spoken. I didn’t want to be around her anymore for fear that I’d be treated the same way. I think that’s what finally did her in, I stopped her being her friend. I found new friends who always gossiped about her and I never said anything. I watched her day after day eat alone in the cafeteria. If you can call that eating. She stopped eating all together. You could see her once beautiful face, gaunt and lined with stress. I remember the day they pushed her down stairs. The next day her body was covered in these massive sweltering bruises.”

I take long gulps of water; my mouth is always so dry. I can feel the tears swelling up in my eyes. I can still see her in the girl’s bathroom crying, I ran back out before she could see me. I suck in another shuddering breath before continuing on with Samantha’s story.

“She started missing school all the time. She even tried to change schools. Her mother would call my mother trying to understand what was going on. I can see myself at 16, sitting at the bottom of my stairs, listening to my mom and Margaret sob together. I was always too cowardly to actually reveal anything to either of them.”






“ It was almost destined for Samantha to be as beautiful as she was. She had this cream colored skin that was always smooth, but the best thing about her was her hair.



“Samantha had this glorious amount of blue black that dipped down to her waist. I always envied it, use to wish my dull brown hair would grow or at least shine the way hers had. It was a normal day for me, and a normal day of bullying for Samantha. Everyone was seated at the tables chatting, and munching when a horrified scream shot through the air. A girl sheared off Samantha’s beautiful hair. I can hear her cruel laughter in my ears. Later I found out that it was a friend of mine. I can see the tears gather and glaze Sam’s eyes as she ran from the cafeteria. No one followed. Not even me.”

I look on to the sea of horrified faces, knowing that they all can see the tears gathering in my eyes. They know this story is close to an end.

“It was April 7th, exactly one thirty a.m. when I got a call from Sam. She pleaded with me, saying that she needed to see me. That I had to go over right away. I told her no. It was late, and of course it was a school night, but the truth is I didn’t want to see her. She begged me, and I hung up on her. My best friend needed me, and I hung up the phone. I tried to go to sleep, but a feeling just kept nagging me to go over. So finally I did. We lived just down the road from each other so I grabbed my coat, dragged on sneakers, and shimmed out of my front door afraid that my parents might hear me leaving. The air was brisk, and I remember jogging, the closer I got, the faster I ran. I practically threw myself through her window on the first floor. It was dark, and I stumbled my way to the light switch, all the while hissing her name.

The light flickered on and there she was, blanketed in her own blood, lying peacefully on her bed. I must have screamed or made some sort of agonized sound for her parents to come running down the hall and into her room. I will never forget the utter agony etched into her mother’s face. The pain just bled from her father’s pores, oozing its way into my heart as he tried to staunch the bleeding with towels. The paramedics arrived, and they tried their best, they rushed her into the nearest hospital, but unfortunately Samantha Jamie Silver died in the back of the ambulance.” I let the weight of my words sink into the crowd. They all look out at each other, and I can almost hear them thinking of the scrap goat they have picked for their grade and how they might want to change that.

The stage light flickers over to the back of the room, and there stands a woman with Blue black hair, and shimmering jade eyes. I can almost hear the quick intake of breath from the audience as they realize who she is. Sam strides to the stage and reaches for my hand. She gives me a quick squeeze of reassurance and steps toward the stage, an easy grin tugging at her lips.

“On April 7th at two fifteen, I died in the back of heartland medical ambulance due to tremendous blood loss. Thankfully the paramedics were able to revive and stabilize me until we reached the hospital.” Sam’s voice is soothing and captivating as she holds everyone’s thoughts in her firm grip.

“I was bullied, and I did die.” She takes a deep breath.

“If not for Celia coming over in the end, I would have died. I have forgiven her, and we now travel around the country telling our story of abuse and forgiveness.” Samantha’s eyes skim the crowd with an compassionate gaze, searching for something she can’t possibly find.


“When I woke up in the hospital two days later I couldn’t believe what had happened to me. That I had gone as far as trying to commit suicide. I finally found the courage to tell my parents to what was really happening, and the group of girls that started it all were all charged or finned with a criminal offense. One in four kids are bullied, 43% is due to cyber bullying. Every seven minutes someone is bullied on the playground or in your commons. Someone is bullied every 25 minutes in your classroom. 160,000 kids miss school every day to avoid being bullied. Every Day, can you believe that? This isn’t okay boys and girls. Something has to change.”

Her face is earnest, but her eyes glint with a fierce light of determination.

“Help stop the violence, your friends and classmates need you!”
The audience erupts with an earth shattering roar; clapping and whistling fill the air. Sam takes one last minute smile, and steps back to join me in the shadows. She reaches back, and grasps my hand in her cool clammy one. My eyes dart to her face, and I give her a small smile. We both turn to the clapping and cheering crowd as the thick red curtain entraps us in darkness. I squeeze her hand.

“Thank you.” Her soft voice echo’s in the dark room.