Miss Q

Miss Q was not a friend. I don't remember why she decided to confide in me but she did. I don't know what was true, maybe all of it.

This is what little I remember of her story: Her father would physically abuse her and her brother. He beat her and locked her in the bathroom for hours and wouldn't allow her to eat. She was very depressed and wanted to kill herself.

Having heard this of course I wanted to help her. I'm a good listener and at age 12 there wasn't much more I could do. I didn't notice that her depression was beginning to drag me down too. One day she sent me a note. She had taken three sleeping pills that night. The next day another note arrived claiming she had taken four. This went on for another four days until I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to the headmistress and burst into the middle of a meeting in floods of tears. I thrust the note into her hand shouting I can't handle this and ran out.

I don't know/remember what happened after that. But I hated Miss Q for dumping that on me - which was a bit unfair of me as it was her plea for help and I had made the decision to help her. I was a bitch. I spread rumours about her being a lesbion, which back at age 12 was very very bad. Don't get me wrong, I'm not homophobic at all, but back then we weren't old enough to understand.

Since then I have always had issues about telling people if I am depressed because I don't want to trigger their depression or weigh them down with my shit. I have now forgiven Miss Q, although I don't think she ever realised that I hated her. I haven't seen her since I left that school so she wouldn't know I'd forgiven her either.