I've known Darren my whole life, but never actually known him. I could blame it on him being

a quiet kid, but I can't be sure that's true. As I've never spoken to him enough, do

I be actually that quiet, or if he has simply never been given the chance to speak?

I feel guilty for that now. Darren is in every one of my elementary

class photos. His name has been on the signing sheet for almost every high school class

I've ever taken. He's been a constant in my life. Yet, I could hardly tell you the

first thing about him. Darren was picked on in school, but he wasn't bullied in the

cruel, concerted way that people think of when they think bullied kid. Sure, occasionally

one of the meaner kids was spits and teasing, I've handed him a mark his way, but he was

what everyone else did to him that was especially cruel.

Darren was utterly ignored. Not just by mean kids pretending not to see him, but by everyone

constantly. He was practically ignored right out of existence. Maybe it was that Darren

clearly came from a poor family or greasy hair and acne atop his skinny frame. Whatever

the reason, Darren was a school pariah. His excommunication from the rest of us eventually

developing into more of a tradition than anything. Everyone knew not to talk to Darren, and at

some point he learned to stop trying to talk to us. He was never spoken to at recess in

elementary school, never approached at lunch in middle school, never acknowledged in the

hallways of our high school. Darren didn't exist.

This train continued for as long as I knew him. Even the teachers seemed to be in on it.

He was never called on to answer questions or present in front of a class. Darren never

got his name called during a group reading assignment. Sometimes our go days without

even seeing him, despite his perfect attendance. I think my mind had been trained over the years

...