Once Upon A Time, there was a little girl. This little girl absolutely loved the phrase, “Once Upon A Time”. When she opened a book and saw those words, she would instantly be excited. To her, “Once Upon A Time” was a promise. It promised her a story with action, drama, romance, and a faraway land with kings and queens. The little girl loved to visit that faraway land, and with each “Once Upon A Time”, that land grew. 

After reading these stories, for a while, the little girl wanted to be a princess. She wanted what those characters had; happiness, true love, and a guarantee for a happily ever after (no refunds). Then she learned about the political side of royalty, and the amount of work that came with the job. She decided with great certainty that she didn’t want to be a princess anymore, the work wasn’t worth it, and would instead pursue a career in fashion. Fashion was a glamorous job, without all the strings. Plus, there would be fewer people judging her. She didn’t like being judged, she’d rather just be liked by people. 

Now, this little girl loved many things. She loved books, and the new adventures each page would bring. She loved her family, even if her baby brother was a bit too loud. She loved food and animals and baking and games. But most of all, she loved her friends. She loved being surrounded by people that cared about her and listened to what she had to say. She loved all her friends, and even if she wasn’t willing to admit it, she’d do anything for them.

This story is about one of the little girl’s friends in particular. They didn’t talk much to each other, but they sat side by side in class, and when she could, the little girl’s friend would pull out a copy of the comic book Calvin and Hobbes. The little girl’s friend would angle it so the little girl could read it, and the little girl was instantly fascinated by the pictures and the character himself, Calvin. He was so different than her, he was in first grade, she was in second. He got bad grades and bullied the new girl (while being bullied himself), while the little girl worked hard in school and made sure to be nice to everyone. He didn’t care, and she cared too much. She loved his character, and the little girl felt like she could learn something from him. If something was especially funny, the little girl’s friend would point at it, then read it out loud. They’d both have a good laugh, then turn the page.

This was what the little girl thought all friendships should be based on. Books, laughter, and shared loves. 

One early morning in science class the little girl’s friend was looking especially sad. Instead of paying attention to the teacher like usual, she stared down at the boring beige table with a blank expression, oblivious to the world around her. The little girl tried a couple of times to engage her in a conversation, but it didn’t seem to work. Taking a deep breath, the little girl reminded herself to just be patient and that everyone was allowed to feel sad once in a while. It didn’t work, and the little girl tolerated the new version of her friend for a couple of minutes before vowing to do something about this change in attitude. When the announcements came on, she found her chance. As everyone stood up and recited the pledge of allegiance, the little girl did something different. She did stand up, yes, but instead of facing the flag, she faced her friend. She then proceeded to stand up on one leg, hold her breath, and make a funny face. 

Her friend let out a small smile, then started giggling. It seemed as though she couldn’t stop giggling, and soon it turned into full-blown laughter. The little girl smiled widely and felt a warmth spread in her chest. Mission accomplished, her friend was now back to normal. Unfortunately, the satisfaction was short-lived since the science teacher did not find the situation amusing at all. The second the pledge of allegiance ended, she spun around to face the two girls, one still giggling and one beaming. 

“You,” she said to the little girl’s friend, who stopped laughing instantly. “Sit up front at that desk. It appears you need supervision in order to behave. I will not tolerate this kind of misbehavior, are we clear!?” The little girl’s friend, her face now bright red (matching her hair) in embarrassment, nodded quickly and scampered to the front. The entire class was silent as she took a seat and put her head down. The little girl had a sinking suspicion that if her friend had tried to say something, she would have burst into tears. The warmth in the little girl’s chest was immediately replaced by something darker and much more damaging. Guilt. 

It consumed her head to toe, whispering things like “look what you’ve done”, “now she hates you” and “she’ll never be your friend again” into her mind. The little girl couldn’t focus for the rest of the class as it went by quickly. When her teacher, Mrs. Smerima, came to pick all the kids up from class, the science teacher told her about the incident that went down. When the science teacher finished retelling the story, Mrs. Smerima pursued her lips into a very thin line and sent the little girl's friend a look. The little girl didn’t understand “the look”, but she got a bad feeling from it nonetheless.

During independent reading time, right after they got back, everyone was seated at their desks, thin little stories in their hands. The little girl could hear Mrs. Smerima talking to the assistant teacher about what happened during science. By now, no one near her was even bothering to pretend to read, being fascinated by the few scraps of teacher gossip they occasionally got.

“Honestly I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Smerima went, “her behavior’s been getting worse. This is just proof.” As those words seemed to echo around the classroom, the little girl’s friend slumped down in her blue chair, humiliated and red-faced. 

The little girl felt something small unravel inside of her. At first, all she could feel was rage, just pure anger directed at the teacher for embarrassing her friend in front of the class like that. She didn’t have the right to do that, especially not in front of everyone in the classroom! She isn’t even a good teacher, the little girl thought bitterly, All she does is put on make-up. The little girl spent the rest of the class continuing to fume until her feelings settled down and manifested. Now all she could feel was shame. She was the one who had caused all of this. Yet here she was, sitting near her friends and off scot-free. It wasn’t right. So why did it happen? With the heavy cloud of guilt looming over her, she couldn’t bring herself to pay attention for the rest of the day. 

Her parents that evening noticed something was off. When they asked her what was wrong, she finally broke down. She ran to the living room, crying and blubbering on and on about how her friendship was ruined and how she was a horrible person. She lied down on the fuzzy carpet and stayed there as time seemed to freeze. She didn’t move, her snot and tears staining the white carpet. Her parents, bless their souls, tried to understand, but they just couldn’t get why their daughter was crying about another girl being yelled at. She didn’t get in trouble too, did she? While the little girl loved them for trying, all she could think was, You don’t get it. You never will. Her mom, finally understanding the situation a little bit more, offered gently, “Why don’t you just apologize?” 

The little girl opened her mouth to reply with a snappy comeback on why that wouldn’t work, then closed her mouth in shock when she couldn’t think of anything. All right, she conceded to herself, tomorrow I’ll apologize and next time I see the teacher I’ll explain what happened. She’ll punish me instead of her, and everything will be back to normal. Even getting my seat moved is better than being a bad friend.

Soothed by the new plan, the little girl practiced what she would say to both her friend and the teacher multiple times throughout the night until she felt like the words were permanently stuck in her brain. Why couldn’t she remember vocabulary words like this? That would be more helpful than whatever weird thing her guilt was cooking up. 

The next morning, the little girl waited anxiously for her friend. Bouncing on the balls of her heels, she scoured the crowd of children for the familiar head of red hair. When she finally came, the little girl cornered her next to the staircase in the main entrance. She  apologized profusely to her surprised friend, who afterward thanked her and assured her that it “wasn’t a big deal.” 

This confused the little girl to no end. Wasn’t a big deal? Did she not care about what happened? The humiliation? The fact that she probably had a bad reputation with the teacher now? Didn’t she want to prove that she was innocent? Even with all of those questions running through her head, she could still feel the wave of relief that crashed through her. She felt as if a heavy backpack was taken off of her, as if she could fly.

Feeling much lighter, the little girl bounced up the marble steps and headed to class.

The next science class rolled around quickly, and the little girl came in fully prepared with an argument on how it wasn’t her friends’ fault; if anyone should be moved, it was her. So you can imagine her surprise when she walked through the door and found a substitute instructor sitting at the teacher's desk. All of her arguments immediately fell and shattered to pieces, never to be picked up again. She stared at the desk for a while, until the substitute finally asked if something was wrong. Having no choice but to shake her head no, the little girl sadly made her way to her desk, accepting the fact that she would never talk to the teacher about the incident. She had too much pride to talk to her next week, that would have just been plain ridiculous. So, with a heavy heart, she sat down and the lesson began. The water cycle, blegh, who even cares about that? 

If this were a normal “Once Upon A Time” story, this probably would be where the “and they lived happily ever after” came in. This isn’t though, and there is no happily ever after, no matter what Disney says. This little girl continued collecting guilt and shame for every little thing, making her feel heavier with every small incident. Sometimes the girl feared that her guilt would be so heavy she would one day sink into the ground.

You might be thinking, “This is absurd! There’s no way a child could feel so much over such a little thing! It must have faded away after time!” 

Maybe it did. 

But, tell me this, has it fully faded away if that same little girl is writing a story about it six years later?