They say it was bullying, that a kid in class 3 died.
It was the spring of my eighth grade year.
One student committed suicide because of bullying at the junior high school she attended.
She was a girl in the next class, a girl whom I had attended the same junior high school for about two years but had never spoken to. I knew her name, but could not match her face.
This time it was reported on the news. I recognized the student’s face on TV.
She looked familiar. Sometimes when I went to school early for day duty or other duties, she was already at school and watering the flowerbeds.
I remember she smiled at me when her eyes met mine.
That was all. That was the only memory I had of her, but her death left a huge void in my heart.
I knew that if I had noticed it, I could have done something about it.
Of course, I knew. I knew it was no use talking about such things.
Still, her smile kept flashing back to me over and over.
I learned later. She had already been bullied at that time.
If that was the case, I wonder what kind of feelings that smile was filled with.
—Help me.
Wasn’t she appealing for help?
Or was she just acting stubbornly?
It is all unfounded imagination.
I’m just making assumptions about her feelings after the fact.