What I Know About Perry

Decent Essays

The name Perry Snitzer sent chills down my spin well into adulthood. In high school, kids would come over and ask me what I knew about Perry. Usually it was new kids of the ones who ran the newspaper, but occasionally there would be kids who couldn’t contain their curiosity any longer. They would come over and ask their grimy questions without waiting in between while I would sit there in a cold sweat hoping it would end soon. My friends would tell whoever was asking to scram and then coincidentally I would be sent home with a stomach bug or a bad cough. It wasn’t just the kids who didn’t know anything about Perry, there would be people who knew her personally who would try to make my life a living hell as if it were their homework. And most of the time it worked. Perry’s sister was the main source of the cause, but sometimes I would see her friends creating some mischief without her orders. Honestly, they were younger than me and probably couldn’t hurt a fly. But I let them scare me, because secretly I knew I deserved it. Everyone, especially my friends, asked why. “The same reason people cut” and not another word was said. They understood. And even though they thought I wasn’t guilty and tried to tell, begged me to admit I did nothing wrong that it was her decision, I knew somewhere deep inside me it was. I let someone die. I let them slip through my fingertips and kill themselves. Perry Snitzer was a tall, slender girl who most people would describe as lanky. But she

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