On September 23, this Tuesday, Connor Wilkinson was found dead. He had committed suicide.
Connor was only 13 years old.
Tired of being pushed around and taunted, he tried to release himself from his living hell. Wilkinson had an abnormally high voice, which was target for mocking from his peers.
I never met Connor. I don't know his family or friends. I hardly know anything about him. It's probably not my business. But I think I know his story. Maybe it started as a joke, maybe it was serious. But somehow Connor became a game of "Pin the insults on the Dork." Maybe Connor laughed it off at first. But it's not human to pull up your insecurities and shove them in your face. Time after time, Wilkinson was bombarded with taunts and it wore away what little confidence he may of had till maybe he truly believe something was wrong with him. That he was a weirdo, a freak. Maybe they convinced him of more than that. Maybe he really thought he didn't deserve to live. Without a kind word to uplift his spirits, he powered through as long as he could. One day, he got pushed over the edge and sought to release himself from this personal hell.
Connor didn't deserve this, no one does. No one understands what it's like to be "that kid" unless you are at some point.
But through it all, some good has come. The school he went to was brought together through grief, they put aside their stupid differences and were equals to sadness and mourning.
I hope you remember Connor Wilkinson and what one kind word might of done to help him.