May *, 1999......cursed

I meant to write this about a week ago. But I didn't. I guess since I thought of it again, it's something I need to write. Actually, it came about because of the shooting in Colorado. I'm sure we've heard enough about that for a lifetime.

There's a kid on my bus, an outcast. I don't even know his first name, that's how bad it is. No one ever talks to him, and people do pathetic things so he won't sit with them. See, he has no one to sit with. Everyday, getting on the bus must be torture for him. I too, put my bookbag next to me and stare out the window when he walks on the bus. But if he does happen to mutter,"Can I sit with you?", I move over. Not because I want to, but because I don't say what I think most of the time.

I watched him walk off the bus one day, and down the street. And I thought, who knows what he's thinking? He could be the quiet psycho, and no one would know. Which is not to say that I'm judging..or am I?

I thought that perhaps I should be kinder. Offer him a seat? Defend him? I wouldn't even have to be his friend. And then I thought...no. It's horrible. What kind of a society is this, what kind of a person am I that I know I should do something simple, but I'm afraid to do it?? I am afraid of being an outcast. I am afraid to challenge the bully. Sometimes those are the consequences. I am afraid.

I should end right there. Dramatic. But I want to tell you what May 3, 1999 means to me. May 3rd is the first of the cursed three's. Two years ago today I was dragged by a horse. I was in a wheelchair for a week. And everybody cared. I miss that sometimes. 3 is very unlucky for me. I'm superstitious about it. I wonder what stitious means, if I'm SUPER stitious! The third of the month is usually a bad day for me. But today, I had a pretty good day. :o) Oh, and by the way, my grandmother isn't dead. People shouldn't give up hope. But enough with this preaching....

Forever Always,