About

Yes, moving on to the next story. . . . Hello. I am a 17-year-old girl who started high school this year. Well, when people think of school violence, everyone naturally thinks of it negatively, right? I was one of those people. Nothing more, nothing less. Actually, if you haven't experienced something yourself, it doesn't really hit home. To me, school violence was just one of those things you see on the news all the time. Then this year, I entered high school. I moved to a distant city for high school because of my parents' jobs, so I didn't know anyone. I was shy and drifting on the outskirts when a friend kindly took care of me. We found out we had a lot in common and became quite close. Then one day, I saw that friend talking to a senior from our club. They were speaking casually, so at first, I just thought they were very close and comfortable with each other. But then I noticed they were calling each other by their names without titles. Usually, no matter how close a senior and junior are, they call each other 'unnie' or 'dongsaeng'. So when I asked why they were so close, they told me they were the same age. It turns out my friend—well, my unnie—had dropped out and then re-enrolled, so she was attending school with us, who are a year younger. Surprised, I asked if I should use formal language or what title would be comfortable, and she just laughed and told me to be comfortable. She said since I was the only one she knew in our grade now, she asked me to keep it a secret. I mean, dropping out and re-enrolling in high school isn't that rare. There were a few others who were open about it from the start, so I just thought, 'Oh, okay.' Since she wasn't an arts or sports major, I figured she had just been sick or re-enrolled to reset her GPA. I didn't pry because I thought it might be rude. Then, while the club senior, that friend, and I were talking together, the senior asked if it was okay to ask why she dropped out and re-enrolled. She started talking quite calmly. She said she dropped out because she was a victim of school violence. I didn't know how to react. When I thought about school violence, the typical image of a victim wasn't someone like her. It's embarrassing to admit, but before that, I think I unconsciously held the mindset of a perpetrator, wondering if school violence happened because the victim was at least a little bit at fault. But Unnie was completely different. She was just a typical, normal student. She was social, had a healthy mindset, and wasn't twisted at all. She was someone who would empathize and give advice on worries while keeping up with her own studies. She was pretty, kind, knew how to have fun, and was someone to look up to as a person. In my mind, I wondered... why would anyone do this to such a kind person? It turns out that kindness was the problem. The perpetrator, that lunatic, didn't have many friends at the time because he had a bad reputation. Unnie felt sorry for him and tried to look after him, laughing off his harsh pranks and such. So this guy kept crossing the line. He drove a wedge between Unnie and the friends she had made, bullying her and gradually isolating her until she broke down. She said she took every possible measure, but nothing changed, so she eventually dropped out. Along with a lawsuit for school violence against that guy. She lived locked in her room for months before finally managing to return to school. It made me even sadder to think about how much time had passed and how many things must have happened for her to speak about those events so indifferently. I felt an emotion that's hard to describe. Unnie often said she wanted to die. In a voice that could never be taken lightly. When those words come out of her mouth, even though it's the same phrase, the weight feels different. Because she really suffered enough to want to die, and maybe she still does. But lately, maybe because I'm by her side... haha, she's become a lot stronger. You could say she's relearning how to love herself. I'm afraid this post might make Unnie look like just a helpless victim. I don't want her to be seen as just a pitiful person who needs sympathy. That girl, that unnie... she's just a normal person around you with a beautiful smile. It's just that she has a hidden, wounded side that crumbles into pieces if a certain part is touched. If Unnie ever hears this story, I really want to tell her: Please stay alive. I hope your life is filled only with laughter. I truly, sincerely wish for that.