A Step Toward Falling

A Step Toward Falling Read Online Free PDF

Book: A Step Toward Falling Read Online Free PDF
Author: Cammie McGovern
but something else. A story I haven’t seen yet.
    Sometimes I’ll wear one of Nan’s dresses and imagine people calling my name again. I picture boys saying, “Belinda! Hello! Look at you in that dress!”
    It makes me feel hopeful and then I remember about not leaving the house and not going back to school ever again. I don’t know when I’ll see people who might say hello or comment on my clothes.
    Even though I’m getting dressed now, nothing changes much except I let myself watch Pride and Prejudice again.
    It’s hard to be sure, but I think Mr. Firth notices my dress. He squints in the middle of one of his lines and then he stops speaking. It makes me smile. I almost stand up to show him the whole dress, but he has to get on with the story and I don’t want to waste time either.
    The first time Nan walks in the room and sees Pride and Prejudice back on, she says, “Oh good,” then turns around and walks back out. She’s happy because it means she doesn’t have to worry about me all day if I’m busy with this.
EMILY
    I N MY FIRST MEETING with the guidance counselor, Ms. Sadiq, I told her that I didn’t remember everything that happened at the game, but I did remember trying to tell Mrs. Avery. Apparently Mrs. Avery remembered this, but also remembers me walking away without repeating what I told her. “So why didn’t you do more ?”Ms. Sadiq asked. “There were three police officers at the game. Why didn’t you tell one of them?”
    â€œI only saw them later,” I stammered. “I knew someone must have called them to help Belinda.”
    â€œThat was how long afterward, though?” She eyed me suspiciously. “Fifteen minutes? Twenty?” I knew what she wasn’t saying: A lot can happen in fifteen minutes .
    I had no answer. I told her my heart had started to race so hard I couldn’t breathe for a while. I told her I felt like I was choking and then I lost all track of time.
    She looked down at her paper, where she had notes written and a timeline of the events. “You sat there that whole time , having a hard time breathing?”
    â€œThat’s right,” I whispered. I couldn’t look at her. Howcould I explain that I thought if I held still, if I closed my eyes and held my breath, maybe I could erase what I’d just seen? Or make it something else: A game they were playing. Or maybe a joke. Maybe there was some way to explain that what I saw wasn’t what it looked like.
    Then I remembered Lucas. “I saw the other guy run onto the field. I knew he saw them, too, and I assumed that he had helped her.”
    She closed her eyes and shook her head. “He didn’t, though. You know that, right? He didn’t do anything either.”
    That was when I understood why her tone was so unrelenting. Belinda had been left entirely alone. She’d had to save herself by screaming loud enough to alert a custodian working near the snack stand. He came running; he called the police.
    Ms. Sadiq continued: “What we’re trying to determine here is how culpable you two are for what happened to Belinda. If you witness an assault, it’s your responsibility to tell someone. We need to make that message clear to you and the rest of the student body.”
    She hardly needed to tell me this. Every year, Youth Action Coalition, the group I cofounded with Richard, sponsors an anti-violence ribbon campaign where we set up a table at lunch and hand out white ribbons to everyone who signs the pledge: I promise to never commit an act of violence against another living being and I promise to report any acts of violence I witness to an appropriate authority. Though Richard developed the campaign and wrote the pledge, Ido most of the legwork for that one. In my drawer at home, I have three white ribbons for every year I’ve signed the pledge. It made me sick to think about it.
    â€œI
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