One More Suicide

//Chapter Eleven//

There's a time in your life in your life when you feel it. At least once in your life you feel the stinging pain in your chest for carrying such hatred. A small burn that may go away quickly but can never be forgotten. That's how Hattie felt as she sat in the benches as the court had ordered silence.

All the witnesses had gone before she did, and while she sat in front of everyone and stared at the five responsible; the sting slightly increased. She related the whole story, admitting of her pretense and explaining what Malik had said to her and Ms. Torres. Only to have the former coach lunge for him. That didn't help him at all.

But the sentence that was given to him did not satisfy the desire of vengeance in her. Five years. While the rest got community service. Malik and his two friends weren't happy about that.

For all their high school years, Malik and his entourage have only focused on soccer--that's what got them scholarships to the college of their choice. After what they had done, their scholarships had gone quicker than they had arrived.

Arabella Cook, the model like girl with the goddess like skills in Basketball and Volleyball also lost her scholarship. It's not like their parents couldn't pay for their tuition anyways.

After it had been revealed that all the problems at school were caused by the former coach and the golden boys of the school, no one had said anything to the kids who had--as you may call it--"come out" after.

Ms. Torres helped Hattie explain everything to the students at a mandatory meeting--parents included. Her mother heard everything. So after the meeting was over and she had moved back to the bleachers as she watched everyone leave, her mother joined her.

No one said anything for a moment until Hattie's mother sighed. "I'm--"

"Don't,"--Hattie closed her eyes--"say 'I'm sorry.'" She shook her head. "Not unless you mean it."

"I do mean it." Her mother placed her hand on top of hers.

"Is this how it's going to work? Mom, not even a day ago did you believe you were doing the right thing, and now you came to apologize?" She brought her hand away from hers. "Tell me, if none of what I've said had ever been said, would you have apologized?"

Her mother stayed quiet, wringing her hands nervously. She looked up at her daughter, her lips trembling.

"Didn't think so," she sighed. "You know, mom, why can't you just accept anyone's differences without the help of the book you so suddenly cherish?"

"All my life I've been taught this way, Hattie," her mother explained. "They taught us that at the first sin we commit we're sent to hell."

"Then we're all screwed," Hattie exclaimed. "Everybody has sinned. You have; I have. Is loving someone a sin? Homosexuals can love as strong as heterosexuals; don't let your judgements fool you."

Hattie's story had gotten out after that meeting. Students told friends; friends told parents and parents gossiped with others. Soon enough she was speaking at other schools, explaining her experience and Zion's. Her story came out on the newspaper after a thorough interview the company had with none other than Ms. Torres. She refused to go popular with this.

As hard as she tried, the bullying didn't stop. A young girl killed herself at the age of thirteen the next town over--physically abused at school and at home.

More and more people stood to protest about the topic. More campaigns opened and more supervision. Counseling. Anonymous help. All offered at the schools in the district. She was glad. No other person should suffer for the ignorance of others.