In the December of 7th grade, one of best friends stopped coming to school. After three days of absence, people in the Humanities program I was in began to ask questions. Nobody was entirely sure where my friend, Rani, was, and someone eventually proposed the possibility of Rani being sick, and that stuck with most of us. Someone would ask if we knew where Rani had gone, we would say, “Oh, I heard she was out sick.” and we would move on. Soon, three days turned into a week, and then two weeks, and people who were closest to Rani began to answer questions strangely. We would ask if they knew when Rani was coming back, they would answer, “Oh...she’ll be back soon, she’s sick.” but “sick” began to sound like a flimsy excuse. Hearing them say that
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I was really worried about you,” I told her.
“I am too.” Rani replied. It was three words but it instantly broke any barriers that had risen between us due to the circumstances. She engulfed me in a strong hug and we stood outside of our Algebra classroom like that for a couple minutes, only breaking away when my French teacher walked past us and greeted me. I greeted her back in what was most likely horribly broken French, embarrassed to be caught at an emotional situation. After that we quickly composed ourselves and I went back to class.
Roughly two months after this ordeal, Rani was hospitalized again. Her dad, who was emotionally and possibly physically abusive, had provoked her verbally in a way that I do not feel comfortable disclosing, and she had locked herself in her room and threatened to jump out the window. Her family got into her room, and made her go to the hospital, where she stayed on suicide watch for a week. I was incredibly upset over the fact that she would try to do this again. I started talking with our school’s counselor, trying to understand how to help Rani, and my mom went so far as to offer our home as somewhere Rani could always go if she did not feel safe in her own. After that, Rani began coming over to my house frequently. I took on the responsibility as being one of Rani’s closest friends and her primary method of support. Rani was hospitalized twice after this, and almost had to stay with
I was really worried about you,” I told her.
“I am too.” Rani replied. It was three words but it instantly broke any barriers that had risen between us due to the circumstances. She engulfed me in a strong hug and we stood outside of our Algebra classroom like that for a couple minutes, only breaking away when my French teacher walked past us and greeted me. I greeted her back in what was most likely horribly broken French, embarrassed to be caught at an emotional situation. After that we quickly composed ourselves and I went back to class.
Roughly two months after this ordeal, Rani was hospitalized again. Her dad, who was emotionally and possibly physically abusive, had provoked her verbally in a way that I do not feel comfortable disclosing, and she had locked herself in her room and threatened to jump out the window. Her family got into her room, and made her go to the hospital, where she stayed on suicide watch for a week. I was incredibly upset over the fact that she would try to do this again. I started talking with our school’s counselor, trying to understand how to help Rani, and my mom went so far as to offer our home as somewhere Rani could always go if she did not feel safe in her own. After that, Rani began coming over to my house frequently. I took on the responsibility as being one of Rani’s closest friends and her primary method of support. Rani was hospitalized twice after this, and almost had to stay with