The Perks of Being a Wallflower

by Stephen Chbosky

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.

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.

Michael’s funeral was strange because his father didn’t cry. And three months later he left Michael’s mom.

It wasn’t until much later that my mom had a few glasses of white wine and told me what happened to her sister. Some people really do have it a lot worse than I do. They really do.

but here was this guy hitting her, and she didn’t say anything. She just got soft and nice.

And I could see this boy at home doing his homework and thinking about my sister naked. And I could see them holding hands at football games that they do not watch. And I could see this boy throwing up in the bushes at a party house. And I could see my sister putting up with it. And I felt very bad for both of them.

You know… a lot of kids at school hate their parents. Some of them got hit. And some of them got caught in the middle of wrong lives. Some of them were trophies for their parents to show the neighbors like ribbons or gold stars. And some of them just wanted to drink in peace.

Incidentally, Sam has brown hair and very very pretty green eyes. The kind of green that doesn’t make a big deal about itself.

“Do you always think this much, Charlie?” “Is that bad?” I just wanted someone to tell me the truth. “Not necessarily. It’s just that sometimes people use thought to not participate in life.” “Is that bad?” “Yes.”

“Charlie, we accept the love we think we deserve.”

“Not everyone has a sob story, Charlie, and even if they do, it’s no excuse.”

“He raped her, didn’t he?” She just nodded. I couldn’t tell if she was sad or just knew more things than me. “We should tell someone, shouldn’t we?” Sam just shook her head this time.

between them. After the song finished, I said something. “I feel infinite.”

Five minutes of a lifetime were truly spent, and we felt young in a good way. I have since bought the record, and I would tell you what it was, but truthfully, it’s not the same unless you’re driving to your first real party, and you’re sitting in the middle seat of a pickup with two nice people when it starts to rain.

I opened the door, and I saw Patrick kissing Brad.

to Bob. “He’s something, isn’t he?” Bob nodded his head. Patrick then said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget. “He’s a wallflower.”

“You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.”

I didn’t know that other people thought things about me. I didn’t know that they looked. I was sitting on the floor of a basement of my first real party between Sam and Patrick, and I remembered that Sam introduced me as her friend to Bob. And I remembered that Patrick had done the same for Brad. And I started to cry. And nobody in that room looked at me weird for doing it. And then I really started to cry.

And in that moment, I swear we were infinite. Love always, Charlie

Patrick actually used to be popular before Sam bought him some good music.

No matter what Patrick did, Brad kept crying. Brad wouldn’t even let Patrick hold him, which seems rather sad to me because if I have sex with someone, I would want to hold them.

I asked Patrick if he felt sad that he had to keep it a secret, and Patrick just said that he wasn’t sad because at least now, Brad doesn’t have to get drunk or stoned to make love.

If you listen to the song “Asleep,” and you think about those pretty weather days that make you remember things, and you think about the prettiest eyes you’ve known, and you cry, and the person holds you back, then I think you will see the photograph.

I am really in love with Sam, and it hurts very much.

I just hope I remember to tell my kids that they are as happy as I look in my old photographs. And I hope that they believe me.

First, I am very interested and fascinated by how everyone loves each other, but no one really likes each other.

but I really think that everyone should have watercolors, magnetic poetry, and a harmonica.

Sam and Patrick looked at me. And I looked at them. And I think they knew. Not anything specific really. They just knew. And I think that’s all you can ever ask from a friend.

I decided then that when I met someone I thought was as beautiful as the song, I should give it to that person.

“Charlie… have you ever kissed a girl?” I shook my head no. It was so quiet. “Not even when you were little?” I shook my head no again. And she looked very sad. She told me about the first time she was kissed. She told me that it was with one of her dad’s friends. She was seven. And she told nobody about it except for Mary Elizabeth and then Patrick a year ago. And she started to cry. And she said something that I won’t forget. Ever. “I know that you know that I like Craig. And I know that I told you not to think of me that way. And I know that we can’t be together like that. But I want to forget all those things for a minute. Okay?” “Okay.” “I want to make sure that the first person you kiss loves you. Okay?” “Okay.” She was crying harder now. And I was, too, because when I hear something like that I just can’t help it. “I just want to make sure of that. Okay?” “Okay.”

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines he wrote a poem And he called it “Chops” because that was the name of his dog And that’s what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and a gold star And his mother hung it on the kitchen door and read it to his aunts That was the year Father Tracy took all the kids to the zoo And he let them sing on the bus And his little sister was born with tiny toenails and no hair And his mother and father kissed a lot And the girl around the corner sent him a Valentine signed with a row of X’s and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant And his father always tucked him in bed at night And was always there to do it Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines he wrote a poem And he called it “Autumn” because that was the name of the season And that’s what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and asked him to write more clearly And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door because of its new paint And the kids told him that Father Tracy smoked cigars And left butts on the pews And sometimes they would burn holes That was the year his sister got glasses with thick lenses and black frames And the girl around the corner laughed when he asked her to go see Santa Claus And the kids told him why his mother and father kissed a lot And his father never tucked him in bed at night And his father got mad when he cried for him to do it. Once on a paper torn from his notebook he wrote a poem And he called it “Innocence: A Qu...

It’s The Catcher in the Rye. It was Bill’s favorite book when he was my age. He said it was the kind of book you made your own.

My dad gave me some records that my sister told him to buy. And my mom gave me some of the books she loved when she was a kid. One of them was The Catcher in the Rye.

she would never let a guy hit her. I guess I can’t say that about you.”

did. I asked my dad once, and he said that the people that lived around his neighborhood understood that some things had nothing to do with the police. He said that if someone touched your sister or your

mother, they paid the price, and everyone looked the other way.

She would be alive if I were born on a day that didn’t snow. I would do anything to make this go away. I miss her terribly. I have to stop writing now because I am too sad.

I read the book again that night because I knew that if I didn’t, I would probably start crying again. The panicky type, I mean. I read until I was completely exhausted and had to go to sleep. In the morning, I finished the book and then started immediately reading it again. Anything to not feel like crying.

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.

Sometimes, I look outside, and I think that a lot of other people have seen this snow before. Just like I think that a lot of other people have read those books before. And listened to those songs. I wonder how they feel tonight.

I guess what I’m saying is that this all feels very familiar. But it’s not mine to be familiar about.

I just know that another kid has felt this. This one time when it’s peaceful outside, and you’re seeing things move, and you don’t want to, and everyone is asleep.

And all the books you’ve read have been read by other people. And all the songs you’ve loved have been heard by other people. And that girl that’s pretty to you is pretty to other people. And you know that if you looked at these facts when you we...

But the thing is that I can hear Sam and Craig having sex, and for the first time in my life, I understand the end of that poem. And I never wanted to. You have to believe me.

Dear friend, I feel like a big faker because I’ve been putting my life back together, and nobody knows.

I would give someone a record so they could love the record, not so they would always know that I gave it to them.

I just wish Mary Elizabeth would ask me questions other than “What’s up?”

The story behind the book was that she saw a movie that talked about one poem that compares this woman’s hands to flowers and rain.

“Kiss the prettiest girl in the room on the lips.” That’s when I chose to be honest. In retrospect, I probably could not have picked a worse time. The silence started after I stood up (since Mary Elizabeth was sitting right next to me). By the time I had knelt down in front of Sam and kissed her, the silence was unbearable. It wasn’t a romantic kiss. It was friendly, like when I played Rocky and she played Janet. But it didn’t matter. I could say that it was the wine or the beer that I chugged. I could also say that I had forgotten the time Mary Elizabeth asked me if I thought she was pretty. But I would be lying. The truth is that when Patrick dared me, I knew that if I kissed Mary Elizabeth, I would be lying to everyone. Including Sam. Including Patrick. Including Mary Elizabeth. And I just couldn’t do it anymore. Even if it was part of a game. After the silence, Patrick did his best to salvage the evening. The first thing he said was, “Well, isn’t this awkward?”

And then I said, “You know, Patrick? If I were gay, I’d