After reflecting on this for the longest time, I just don't know how to start off. Rumors are just horrible, nasty things that can reveal dark truths of someone, or spread false lies like wildfire. There are multiple versions to this story. All of it was talk. Here is what I was told about the rumor that almost killed me.
The first version is that the middle schooler's were having a bonfire and one of them said they saw something on social media saying that I was going to shoot up the school. This is the most outrageous of the versions because, as a socially awkward person, I did not really go out senior year. Definitely not to bonfires or to middle school events. I didn't even go to Dixon Middle School. I went to Dixon High and went to a magnet school and wore a uniform for that awkward pubescent stage of life where I was fat, had a lot of acne, glasses, short (before growth spurt), and braces all in the span of sixth to seventh grade.
The second version is that someone said I physically said that if I text 'trench coat' then everyone was to text there friends 'trench coat' as a secret message which translated to something like "He's going to do it today. Don't go to school". This rumor was also wrong. I only text the same five people in high school, but since the bonfire was on a Friday or Saturday (at the beginning of the weekend), my phone was receiving text messages from numbers I did not already have saying awful things. I wouldn't even go on Facebook, I just read the messages off my email every time Facebook told me I had new one. Most of the weekend was sitting in my bed crying, not able to eat. Even my best friend text me that he wouldn't believe the rumors if I told him myself that they weren't true. I didn't text him back. True friends do not need a confirmation that you are not crazy.
The last version, as far as I know of the many stories, is the one that social media chose to keep. No bonfires, no trench coats, just a basketball game. Before the weekend a student said he could shoot up the whole school, but his defense was he meant shoot up as is baskets. Someone had misheard or misinterpreted his statement and it spread like wildfire. So why was I involved? Apparently this student hated me (which is understandable since I was called a 'cool-bitch', and also 'bitch-bitch' if I needed to be, by close cross country friends before this rumor). In my head, if the rumor was about students he hated, I was surprised our whole AP English/Psychology class wasn't under suspicion. It seemed like he disliked everyone there and the class just returned the favor, some more than others. However, for both of our safety, the school required us to legally stay home that Monday. An extra day to cry and starve myself as I received more hateful messages.
These are all just words. Who knows the real story. What I can tell you is that the movies are wrong, everyone is not lined up against the lockers waiting for your entrance as the cue to stop and stare and whisper. No, when I walked in, the path of the students circling the school before classes happened as usual. When I joined in the path, they made a circular space around me as if I had a disease and couldn't be touched. Some ran into classrooms as I walked, while some teachers who had known me for all of high school slammed their doors as I passed. No friends. No love. Just tears.
I walked to my first supporter, the first that knew I wasn't crazy. She was my first high school teacher, the first class of first semester freshman year. I had visited her everyday before class for the rest of high school, making sure she had candy when momma made her chocolate candies around Christmas because she was that great a teacher and positive influence. The next was a freshman who said she didn't believe the rumors because sometime before I held the door for her and said I didn't mind skipping my class to walk her to hers. When the bell rang for class to start my heart ached. I had to face them. I had to see how many true friends I had. First class of the day: four. The same four girls I sat with every day in our AP English/Psychology class. Everyone else apologized or stared, with the exception of the student who started it all while playing basketball. He was absent for being arrested and not a sight of him for the next few weeks that followed.
As the day went on, I found a few friends that wore blue bandannas to show support for me and my innocence, since blue is my favorite color. The last few true friends were my prom date junior year, and her brother and sister (the twins) that were also in my grade. They all changed their profile pictures to pictures of me with them to show their support of my innocence.
As the week passed I heard stories of fake friends. There were the ones that were best friends with me and then believed the rumors. There were ones that believed and would hug me and apologize "I'm so sorry I ever doubted you. Can we still be friends?" Last, there was the one who came up and asked how I was doing as she hugged me several times as a way to comfort me, and as she left, the friends from first period came up to me, "What did that bitch say to you? She was the one who was telling everyone that you were crazy and to stay home."
After all that has happened, I can only say that I know who my true friends are. They are few, but at least they know me well enough not to believe rumors. And to you, reader, I ask of you not to spread rumors. These rumors did horrible things to me, to my school, and to many friendships. As I am sometimes, you may be unbelieving of this story but it is true. All you really have to do is google my high school and something about the school shooting threat to find news footage of this fiasco.
The moral of this awful memory would be: Don't spread rumors. Be kind to one another.
