Walking through the school halls, its not uncommon to hear people call out to each other with friendly shouts or playful yells. What is less apparent is the silent suffering of those who are bullied. They aren’t beat up or tripped in the halls, and their lunch money has probably never been stolen. Those things don’t happen outside of movies. Groups of kids laughing at the unfortunate differences of someone else? People talking behind each others backs, spreading rumors, and insulting each other on social media? Those are the things that actually happen. Kids are nasty to each other, and will take every opportunity to get to somebody that they don’t like.

There’s a kid in my school named Ray. Ray is a quiet guy who generally keeps to himself, but I think something’s wrong with him because he gets angry really quickly. The other kids think it’s hilarious to egg him on, to make him yell and shout until the teacher has to intervene. They get a kick out of it, it entertains them to see somebody who’s different get mad. This is about the time I stood up and said “Stop.”

Ray’s in my english class and sits in the back, not saying a word. That is, until the others decide that they’re bored and do whatever they can to annoy him. One kid in particular, Kevin, seems to lead the others in their antics.

One day, Kevin was slowly peeling apart his eraser, flicking the small shavings in Ray’s direction. Ray didn’t notice, as he was intently writing notes about the symbolism in The Great Gatsby. Until a particularly large piece of the hard, red eraser came sailing his way and landed on his cheek. Eyes wild, he scanned the room for the perpetrator. Kevin acted natural, hiding his smile with his hand and pretending to pay attention to the lesson he couldn’t care less about. Kevin continued this, his friends around him snickering. I was sitting right behind Kevin. I could have said stop. I could have easily told him to knock it off, to leave Ray alone. But I didn’t. Whatever moral superiority I felt I had over Kevin was not enough to make me speak up. High School is a place where blending in is easier and more comfortable than standing out, and I didn’t want to be labeled as a loser. So I said nothing.

Ray sits alone at lunch. Every day, I pass his table and look at him, feeling awful that he has no friends. I think to myself how nice it would be for me to sit down next to him, to talk to him. But I never do. I walk right past him and sit down in the seat saved by my friends at our full table. Sometimes I scan the lunchroom, and always end up looking at Ray. He’ll usually have a book on the table, constantly reading to entertain himself. Kevin sits at my table, even though we’re not friends. He’ll occasionally take carrots or other foods and lob them towards Ray. Usually the lunch monitors notice and tell him to knock it off. But sometimes they don’t. Sometimes he keeps hitting Ray with a barrage of small food until Ray angrily storms out of the lunch room. They think it’s so funny, but I don’t. And yet, why do I still say nothing?

Ray didn’t use Facebook. One day, somebody, assumably Kevin, made a fake Facebook profile using Ray’s name. He would post things on there, pretending to be Ray. Silly things. Mean things. He would get tons of likes and people would comment on how funny it was. Eventually the school found out and had it removed, but not before the damage was done. I saw it well before the school did, and yet, I said nothing.

One day Ray had a full blown anger attack in the middle of English. We were giving speeches about Julius Caesar, and when he went up the class wouldn’t quiet down. It took a few minutes of the teacher shushing them before they were finally quiet, and he finally began. Immediately I knew that it would go poorly. He stuttered through every word and took long breaks trying to remember what to say. Slowly the class started snickering, until finally during one of his longest pauses, Kevin let out an audible sigh and the whole class started laughing. Ray threw down his note cards and yelled, “COULD YOU SHUT UP!”. This made the class laugh even harder. I sat there, feeling bad for him. He snapped. Grabbing the stool behind him, he threw it hard at the wall. It slammed into the bricks and broke with a snap. He stormed out of the classroom. Eventually the school police officer was called to chase him down. I heard he had to tackle him before Ray calmed down. Sitting in the class, I could have done something. I could have told the class to shut up when they started snickering. But I did nothing.

The next day, Ray didn’t show up for school. Nor the next day. I guess his parents pulled him out after that incident. I never learned what happened to him. Transferred to another school most likely. But it would be no different. There are always people like Kevin, who enjoy making the lives of those who dare to be different, who dare to have issues outside of their control, a living hell. And there will always be bystanders like me, who have every opportunity to stop the bullying but don’t. Because the time I said “Stop” never happened, and Ray paid for it. Because I did nothing.