They tormented her, they teased her, they were slowly peeling away the layers of character and personality that built up over the years, purposely. She did nothing wrong, nothing calling for revenge, but yet, they demolished her spirit until she was just a pale face in the crowd.

I watched this happen, witnessed this horrible doing. Each day, I’d sit there and witnessed the worst behavior of people I’ve seen in years. I saw it, I heard it, I felt the tension in the air, but yet, I did nothing.

Now I stand here, over her grave, over her dead body. I look down at the almost blank tombstone that displays only her name and dates. I drop the flowers I am holding, letting a tear slip for this girl. This girl who deserved none of it. The girl who took her own life. Then I run away.

A few hours later…

I return Sharpie at hand, and I write:

Shelly Martin was a girl who didn’t deserve this…

Then I left with no intention of returning, but I knew I made a difference.