Perks of Being a Wallflower | Page 2

our students has passed on. We will hold a
memorial service for Michael Dobson during assembly this Friday."
I don't know how news travels around school and why it is very often right. Maybe it was in the
lunchroom. It's hard to remember. But Dave with the awkward glasses told us that Michael killed himself.
His mom played bridge with one of Michael's neighbors and they heard the gunshot.
I don't really remember much of what happened after that except that my older brother came to Mr.
Vaughn's office in my middle school and told me to stop crying. Then, he put his arm on my shoulder and
told me to get it out of my system before Dad came home. We then went to eat french fries at
McDonald's and he taught me how to play pinball. He even made a joke that because of me he got to
skip an afternoon of school and asked me if I wanted to help him work on his Camaro. I guess I was
pretty messy because he never let me work on his Camaro before.
At the guidance counselor sessions, they asked the few of us who actually liked Michael to say a few
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words. I think they were afraid that some of us would try to kill ourselves or something because they
looked very tense and one of them kept touching his beard.
Bridget who is crazy said that sometimes she thought about suicide when commercials come on during
TV. She was sincere and this puzzled the guidance counselors. Carl who is nice to everyone said that he
felt very sad, but could never kill himself because it is a sin.
This one guidance counselor went through the whole group and finally came to me.
"What do you think, Charlie?"
What was so strange about this was the fact that I had never met this man because he was a
"specialist" and he knew my name even though I wasn't wearing a name tag like they do in open house.
"Well, I think that Michael was a nice guy and I don't understand why he did it. As much as I feel sad,
I think that not knowing is what really bothers me."
I just reread that and it doesn't sound like how I talk. Especially in that office because I was crying
still. I never did stop crying.
The counselor said that he suspected that Michael had "problems at home" and didn't feel like he had
anyone to talk to. That's maybe why he felt all alone and killed himself.
Then, I started screaming at the guidance counselor that Michael could have talked to me. And I
started crying even harder. He tried to calm me down by saying that he meant an adult like a teacher or a
guidance counselor. But it didn't work and eventually my brother came by the middle school in his
Camaro to pick me up.
For the rest of the school year, the teachers treated me different and gave me better grades even
though I didn't get any smarter. To tell you the truth, I think I made them all nervous.
Michael's funeral was strange because his father didn't cry. And three months later he left Michael's
mom. At least according to Dave at lunchtime. I think about it sometimes. I wonder what went on in
Michael's house around dinner and TV shows. Michael never left a note or at least his parents didn't let
anyone see it. Maybe it was "problems at home." I wish I knew. It might make me miss him more clearly.
It might have made sad sense.
One thing I do know is that it makes me wonder if I have "problems at home" but it seems to me that
a lot of other people have it a lot worse. Like when my sister's first boyfriend started going around with
another girl and my sister cried for the whole weekend.
My dad said, "There are other people who have it a lot worse."
And my mom was quiet. And that was that. A month later, my sister met another boy and started
playing happy records again. And my dad kept working. And my mom kept sweeping. And my brother
kept fixing his Camaro. That is, until he left for college at the beginning of the summer. He's playing
football for Penn State but he needed the summer to get his grades right to play football.