A memory

I don't know why I started thinking about this after just waking up. But here I am talking about it.

So...back in elementary school, when I was 12, I took speech classes to, y'know, learn to speak correctly. In said class there was a older boy, who used to talk about his home life and other problems he had during the speech lesson. Basically he was a troubled teenager, and that can explain the things he did.

What he used to do was cat call girls, me included. But me and my friends would flip him off. Keep in mind we were like 11-12, but I honestly regret it, it's not like a was ever a mean person, I was just as troubled as he was. I understood him in a sense. Not entirely I was really confused on why he would flirt with me, a 12 year.

But anyways, one day, during recess, he decided to climb the fence and stand in the middle of the road asking a car to hit him. Me the lucky child I was saw this. I watched him stand there yelling for a car to come run him over. The teachers acted quickly and got all the kids to move to the covered area as to not watch him. But all I could think about was how guilty I felt, kind of, I don't remember what I felt. I think I was curious, I had never met someone who wanted to end their life before, like me. But of course I felt horrible for the way I acted towards him, I mean I never saw him again until I was in middle school and than in high school. Never once did I speak to him.

I don't know, I guess I do feel in a way responsible for what happened. In the end it's just a memory.