My sweet cousin, Mattie, has been called a geek. Fridman writes: “Children who would rather read books than play football, would rather build model airplanes than get lost in parties with their classmates, become social outcasts” (257). Mattie was what Fridman would have called an outcast. She attended a small public school in Nebraska, where her classmates made fun of her love of reading, her thick-lensed glasses, and her tall figure. Mattie was one of the smartest and funniest people I knew. Her laugh was contagious, but she covered her wound pretty well with her smile. Since I had lost contact with her when she moved to Nebraska, I had no idea of ​​the bullying and depression she was experiencing until my family and I received a call from my aunt Sharon. His trembling, emotional voice made it clear that something was wrong. “Mattie’s gone,” Aunt Sharon cried over the loudspeaker. “Last night she committed suicide.” I heard these words and immediately fell to the ground with a stream of tears streaming down my face. How could someone so full of life disappear so soon? How could anyone be cruel enough to bully Mattie? I was so angry and hurt that I felt like my heart was going to explode. Unfortunately, there are many stories like my cousin's. If I went to public school, I wonder what kind of person I would be. Would be