I was young and naïve. I thought the home I lived in was safe, but I was the one to discover Trevor. He laid there on the kitchen floor. He didn’t look good at all. I stood there in shock and disbelief as Trevor writhed in pain. My father was also there and quickly comforted and cleaned him. Trevor never mentioned what happened that day. That day he turned 23.
At home I shared a room with Kyle who was a little younger than me. Trevor shared a room with Butch. They were roughly the same age but didn’t get along very well.
Two weeks later Kyle and I were playing “Go Fish” in the dining room while Trevor and Butch were eating in the kitchen. Suddenly there was a splat followed by a violent commotion coming from the kitchen. Kyle and I quickly ran to the kitchen to see what happened. What I saw froze me in place. Kyle ran to tell my mother. I didn’t want to believe the scene in front of me. There was Trevor, flailing on the ground. And there was Butch, looking down at him with a cold stare.
The next day when I came home from school I ran to Trevor and Butch’s room. I wanted to show Trevor the picture I drew for him. I knew it would cheer him up. But Butch was the only one there. I asked where Trevor was but Butch didn’t even look at me. I asked my dad. He didn’t respond right away so I asked again. This time my father took a deep breath and said that Trevor had died. “How!?” I asked. “He jumped out of his bowl when no one was home,” said my father.
Trevor was 38 days old.
The point: Speak up if you know someone is being bullied.
word count without "The point" : 297