Bystander Syndrome.
Do you know what that is?
It's this weird phenomenon in social psychology where people see something bad happening, and instead of going in to help, they think 'its someone else's problem' and wait for someone else to fix the issue.
I bet you probably knew that already, it gets brought up a ton in All kinds of media…
But did you know that it extends past just that example?
Did you know that it's possible to be a bystander to more than just emergency situations?
Did you know that it's possible to be a bystander to your own life as well?
Let me show you a prime example.
—
At Hudson crest highschool, a teenage boy sat in his seat, he was on his phone, scrolling, tapping
He wasn't actually doing anything, he just looked like he was doing something.
Around him, the class was loud and heavy, people talking to their friends, girlfriends kissing their boyfriends, people talking about how much fun they had last summer, etc.
This happened quite often when the teachers left the class.
The teenage boy, felt the wind of a stray paper airplane whistle past his ear. It hit the chalkboard with a soft thwack and fell to the floor.
He picked it up, and the guys who threw it took it from him, didn't thank him, didn't even notice him.
Two rows over, a girl laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her chair, her friends catching her before she could hit the ground.
It didn't take long for the class to end, and with that, school too. He followed everyone out the door, he wasn't the first out, nor was he the last out.
He was practically invisible, just another kid in the halls. Every one of them had friends and partners, their cliques like islands among the crowd.
The boy passed a group of preppy kids, they were giggling about something, the girls playing with their hair, the boys puffing out their chests and shoving each other like gorillas.
He passed by a group of nerds - dorks with thick glasses discussing an anime he didn't know about, some playing magic the gathering over in the corner, others having a heated debate about superheroes.
Then he came across a scene he'd swear he's seen 100 times before in. It was large boy cornering a much smaller boy, shoving and taunting him, despite the blatant bullying, no one stepped up. Kids walked past and kept their eyes to themselves, no one wanting to involve themselves.
The boy was pushed up against the wall, his books scattering the floor. His backpack was ripped off him, and tossed across the hall like a ragdoll. The larger boy was laughing at him now, taunting him about something.
As he stared at the scene, he and the boy being bullied locked eyes for a second, yet he still didn't do a damn thing.
Not long after, the bigger guy was pushed off by a blonde boy, someone around his age, but bigger, taller, more noticeable.
He told the bully off, saying things the boy couldn't hear.
The boy simply kept walking.
He eventually made his way out of school, sitting at a seat just outside the building.
The boy slumped into the cold concrete bench outside, letting the dull March sunlight wash over him. He stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers like they might tell him some secret about why he never stepped up. Around him, the laughter and chatter of kids spilling out of the school doors felt distant, muffled, like it belonged to a world he wasn't part of.
A couple of students passed by, waving at friends, calling out names. One girl tripped on the curb near him, stumbled forward, and caught herself with her hands. Instantly, a group of kids near her gasped and froze, but no one ran to help. Not him. Not anyone. She recovered on her own, embarrassed, shrugging off the moment as if it never happened.
He swallowed hard. He hated that about himself. Every time someone needed help, he paused, he never actually did anything about it. He always thought about it. Had fantasies about day's where he might save a girl from falling and they might end up falling in love and having a future together or something. But he could acknowledge that that was just a dream. Something like that couldn't possibly happen.
A butterfly of guilt fluttered in his stomach as he watched the bigger boy from earlier walk past, the one who had finally pushed the bully away.
Eventually, he pulled out his phone again, scrolling aimlessly, letting the world continue without him. He sat there like this after school everyday. It was his way to unwind before heading home. But unfortunately even that wasn't unique. A lot of people did the exact same thing.
He hated it. He hated himself, there wasn't a second that passed where he didn't hate himself. But he wasn't gonna do anything to change himself. He… had long since given up on that.
He'd stayed there for a while, maybe an hour, an hour and a half, he wasn't really paying any attention to when he got there.
He noticed a girl out of the corner of his eye as she passed right by him. How could he not notice her? Her name was lea Bordeaux and she was drop dead gorgeous. she had long, flowing dark brown (nearly black) hair that reached down past her waist. Large expressive dark eyes, a small nose, and a gentle smile. Her cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles. She wore a bright mustard yellow turtleneck sweater with a ribbed texture. And a high-waisted, crisp white wrap skirt that contrasted sharply with the yellow top.
That's how he'd describe her. He'd been crushing on her since he got into highschool, though he wasn't very special in that regard either, there were a lot of people crushing on her, he was just another one among the litter.
Though, not a single one of them had a chance, because she already had a boyfriend.
He noticed her sit down in a seat next to the blonde boy who'd helped the nerd earlier. He kissed her on the cheek.
Joshua Gordon, that was his name, an orphan with a talent in sports, singing, acting etc. he had charisma, he had good looks. If real life was a novel, he'd be the authors gary stu main character.
He got up, it would be better if he went home anyway, better than staying here at least.
He walked out of school
The late afternoon air was cool against his face as he walked against sidewalks that hadn't been fixed in ages, sidewalks with weeds pushing out, some were cracked, etc.
Cars rolled past on the street beside him, engines humming, music thumping faintly through closed windows. A group of kids from school walked ahead, laughing loudly about something he couldn't hear. One of them shoved another playfully and they nearly stumbled into the road, bursting into louder laughter.
He slowed his pace without thinking, letting the distance grow between them.
A stray dog sniffed through a pile of trash near the curb, its ribs faintly visible under thin fur. For a moment he stared at it, wondering if he should do something, call it over maybe check if it had a collar.
But the thought passed just as quickly as it came.
He kept walking.
His shoes scraped softly against the pavement. Houses began replacing storefronts, fences and small yards lining the road. Somewhere nearby a radio played, the sound coming through an open window.
He glanced down at his phone again, thumb flicking across the screen.
Just something to fill the silence.
Something to keep him from thinking.
He barely noticed when someone stepped out from around the corner.
His shoulder clipped theirs.
"Ah!"
The girl stumbled back, her bag slipping from her grasp. It hit the pavement with a dull thump and spilled open, books, pencils, and loose papers scattering across the sidewalk.
He froze.
For a second his brain did the usual thing, keep walking. Pretend it didn't happen. Someone else would help.
Except there was no one else.
The girl crouched down quickly, clearly annoyed. "Seriously? Watch where you're going."
Her voice had a sharp edge to it.
He awkwardly knelt down too, grabbing a notebook before the wind could drag it into the street. Up close he noticed her hair, it was a bright purple. It had to be dyed right? No way someone can be born with purple hair. Tho, purple was a weird color to choose.
It was… kinda cool.
Weird, but cool.
She snatched the notebook from his hand before he could pass it to her properly. "I've got it."
"Right. Sorry."
He picked up a pencil, then a small sketchbook. When he accidentally flipped it upright he caught a glimpse of a drawing inside, some samurai character, with a horn on its head and black armor.
Before he could look longer, she grabbed that too.
"Don't snoop."
"I wasn't-"
She stuffed everything back into the bag with quick, irritated movements. Up close she was actually pretty cute, he realized. This girl had messy bangs, ink smudges on her fingers, and a hoodie that looked two sizes too big.
"Uh, hi. My name is-"
"No one cares about your stupid name" the girl interrupted.
She slung the bag over her shoulder.
"Next time," she muttered, already turning away, "use your eyes."
And just like that, she walked off down the sidewalk.
He stayed crouched there for a second before noticing something still on the ground.
An apple.
It must've rolled out of the bag.
It wasn't just some regular apple, it was golden in color and shone like it was actually made of gold. But stuff like that wasn't real right? Apples made of gold only existed in video games.
He picked it up slowly, turning it in his hand, staring down the street where the purple-haired girl had already disappeared.
He sighed, he probably wasn't gonna catch up to her, was that just an excuse to eat the thing because he was pretty hungry? Yes, yes it was.
The sidewalk blurred under his feet as he pocketed the apple, its cool weight a small, stolen comfort. His stomach was gnawing at him, he wanted to eat something, but he would wait until he got home.
He hadn't helped the girl, not really. Just knelt, mumbled sorry, and let her snatch everything away. Someone else would have chased after her, offered the apple with a grin. Someone other than him.
Ten blocks later his apartment building rose up, gray concrete, peeling paint on the buzzer panel, the familiar smell of fried onions coming from the lobby. He keyed in 4B, shoulders slumping as the elevator groaned upward. The hallway light flickered, same as always. Inside, the door clicked shut behind him, sealing out the world.
"Andrea?" he called, voice flat.
His little sister poked her head from the kitchen, eight years old and swallowed by one of his old hoodies. Her dark hair was in messy pigtails, one sock missing.
"You're late," she said, but her eyes lit up anyway. "amaya texted, she's working doubles again so she'll be late tomorrow. Can you make mac and cheese? The kind with the orange powder?"
He nodded, dropping his backpack by the door. Andrea climbed onto a chair, legs swinging, already chattering about her day, how Mrs. Patel read a chapter about dragons, how Tommy in class pushed her on the swings too hard and she almost cried but didn't because big kids don't cry.
He listened with half an ear, pulling the pot from the cabinet, filling it with water. The apple sat on the counter like some kinda evidence.
While the water heated, Andrea tugged at his sleeve. "Hey… can you help me with my math? It's fractions and I keep getting them wrong. Please?"
He stared at the blue worksheet she slid across the table. "Yeah, no problem." He said, helping his sister was never something he considered a chore, he liked helping her.
"Yeah. Okay." He sat beside her, pencil in hand, voice softer than he meant. "So, see this? You divide the top by the bottom. Like… pizza slices."
The water boiled over, hissing on the stove, and he jumped up. He knew how to multitask pretty effectively, he kinda had to.
He fixed the pot, stirred in the noodles, then went back to the fractions, explaining again when she got stuck. Andrea's shoulders relaxed. She even hummed one of those silly songs from her cartoons.
After a couple hours of helping his sister out, He sat on his bed and took a bite out of the apple he'd gotten from the girl. It tasted great. Better than any normal apple. He wondered why that was the case
He got an email, something about, needing to join a club, he got these emails constantly, but he always chose to ignore them, today was no different. He instead opted to knock himself out and fall to sleep.
It was 10 o'clock after all.
Hours later, after the rest of the city had fallen asleep, the boy had woken up. His phone light was the only thing you could see in his room as on his phone, the time was 2:03.
He lay back and stared up at the ceiling, that nap didn't refresh him at all. He was still tired, and he wanted to go right the fuck back to sleep. But he couldn't, he still had to go to school no matter how much it pained him.
He had to go to school because no one else could care for Andrea otherwise. Their mom was always a piece of shit but at least back then she still knew how to take on some responsibility in taking care of Andrea when she was a baby. But now they don't even have that.
He had to thank his aunt, even though she wasn't around to take care of them, she was still the reason they hadn't been separated.
He rolled over, thumb already swiping open the phone. The usual doom scroll began, He didn't have Instagram or Tok so he just stuck to YouTube shorts.
It was mornings like this that made him rethink his life. What exactly was he doing? Was this really the life he lead?
The hours blurred. 3:17 AM. A new notification that school email again about mandatory club sign-ups for character development credits. He deleted it without reading. 4:42 AM. He doom-scrolled.
5:29 AM. His eyes burned, but sleep stayed gone. The stolen apple sat on the nightstand, one perfect bite missing, still weirdly crisp and sweet even after hours.He took another absentminded bite in the dark, juice running down his chin. It tasted like… more than fruit. He decided to just scarf the whole thing down, and it tasted amazing.
Like a pop of color in the grayness of the morning, it improved his whole mood.
At 5:58 AM the alarm he never needed buzzed once. He killed it, swung his legs out of bed, and pulled on the same hoodie from yesterday. Andrea was still asleep in the next room, tiny snores drifting through the wall. He checked her phone, and made sure to set the alarm which she turned off.
Six o'clock exactly. The sidewalk was empty except for the same stray dog from yesterday, now curled under a bench with its ribs showing worse in the gray dawn. He slowed for a step, the usual pause hitting hard. Call animal control? Someone else will notice. The thought passed like breath on cold air. He kept walking.
The ten blocks to school stretched longer in the quiet. Streetlights flickered off one by one as the sky lightened to a dull blue. His phone stayed in his hand the whole way. Every time he looked up he saw this weird aura around people.
It was weird, to say the least, but no one commented on it, and everyone had it. Different colors for every person but they each still had it.
He came to the conclusion that he was simply tripping balls. It wasn't an uncommon thing, he often saw weird stuff when he lacked sleep.
How many hours did he get again? It took him 40 minutes to fall asleep and he woke up at 1:49, so about 4 if he was doing his math right, which he doubted cause of the lack of sleep.
A jogger nearly collided with a cyclist at the crosswalk ahead; both swore but kept moving. He didn't even flinch. Just scrolled faster.
By the time the school gates loomed, the usual crowd was already spilling in. cliques forming like they had yesterday, laughter bouncing off lockers.
Damn, he had woken up too late it looks like.
He slipped through the doors invisible again, phone still glowing in his grip, the apple core now tucked in his pocket like a secret he didn't deserve. Another day of watching the world happen around him.
He pushed through the front doors of the school The hallway smelled of floor wax and cheap body spray, the usual roar of voices already rising even though the first bell hadn't rung. He kept his head down, thumb scrolling the same dead feed he'd been doom-watching since 5:58 a.m., when.
That was when he bumped into another person who stood in front of him. "Damn, I need to get better depth perceptiooooooooooh hey principal Harlan" he said, noticing that the person he bumped into was the principal, and cursing in front of him probably wasn't a good idea.
"You're exactly who I was hoping to see. My office. Now, young man."
"Oh great, what did I do." he muttered under his breath, half planning to just back away and pretend he heard nothing.
But Harlan's hand was already on his shoulder, steering him past the trophy cases and the laughing preppy girls who didn't even glance over. The office door clicked shut behind them with the finality of a jail cell.
Inside, the room smelled old. He couldn't quite explain what old smelled like, but it had that old smell. Diplomas lined one wall; a faded poster of a mountain climber hung crooked on the other. Character is what you do when no one is watching. The boy almost laughed. He sat in the plastic chair that squeaked under him.
"Oh yes, I forgot to say good morning mister-"
"You don't really need to tell me that. It's never actually a good morning" the boy interrupted the man before he could utter his name.
"You're correct, but it's still proper manners"
Harlan dropped into his own seat, flipped open the clipboard, and slid the mandatory club email printout across the desk. The same one he'd left un-deleted on his phone. "You never replied. Three weeks until the deadline for character-development credits, and your file says you're still club-less. That's not optional anymore, son. Not if you want to walk at graduation."
The boy retorted "I'm sorry but I can't do that sir"
Harlan raised one eyebrow. "Can't? Or won't?"
"I work afternoons at the corner store some days. And I need to be there with my little sister or else she'll be left with no one to take care of her," the boy explained his circumstances.
"Everyone's got reasons," Harlan cut in, voice flat but not unkind. "Joshua Gordon's got football, theater, and basketball, yet he still signed up for the environmental club."
The boy sighed. Of course he had to mention that guy.
He spoke again, voice cracking slightly. "Look, I'm not… I'm not particularly good at anything. I don't have any friends who would want to join a club. I don't even know what I'd do."
Harlan leaned forward, elbows on the desk. The mountain-climber poster seemed to loom behind him. "Then create one."
The boy blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. School policy: if no existing club fits your 'schedule' or 'skill set' his fingers made air quotes "you are authorized, encouraged, and frankly required to found your own. I'll sign the charter myself. You get the credit, the school gets another box checked, we all win"
"Listen, sir. I'm grateful for the offer, but… no? No"
"Why not? Your graduation is riding on this. Your future is riding on this."
"See that.. that's just it, it's really not."
"hm?"
"Excuse me for my rudeness sir but… could you look me dead in the eyes and tell me that I've got a bright future ahead of me? You can't. Because I don't. And I know that"
"And you're just fine with that?" the principal asked the boy in front of him
"No, I've never been okay with that. But I'm not stupid, I know how my life's gonna end, going through a, and mind my French, shitty 9 to 5, where the only difference from school is that it's slightly more boring."
"That's why school exists young man. To help the students in it, get the life they dream of, and-"
"I'm gonna stop you right there. You don't believe that" he interrupted the man standing in front of him. "I know that you know most of the people here aren't making it where they want. Sure some of them will, but most won't. I definitely won't."
"You're correct"
"Hm?"
"I am well aware that many of the students who come to this school will not make it where they want to in life. But it's still my job to make sure that the number of kids who do, increase every year. I wish the best for every student in this school. And that includes you young man. Even if you can't do it, isn't it better to at least try?" harlan said as he slipped a blank club-formation form across the desk. " Deadline's Friday. Pick a name, pick a meeting time, get three signatures from other students and bring it back."
The boy stared at the form. The lines blurred. His fingers itched to push it back, but he didn't. He just took it, and walked out of the principals office with it.
He walked just out of earshot before deciding to speak.
"Fuck. I usually don't speak my mind to teachers, why the hell did I have to choose now to do it? And to the principal of all people?" he chewed himself out.
He looked down at the blank lines where it said Club Name: and Purpose:
Despite how much he'd been protesting, he wasn't as mad about it anymore now that it was in his hands.
He felt this weird warmth pop up in his chest that he couldn't explain.
—
He sat with the paper for the rest of the day, wondering what exactly he was supposed to do with it. He didn't even have a club room yet. Well, that was first order of business he guessed
Well, a club room could be anywhere, didn't have to be anything crazy just yet.
But to form a club and get people to join, he'd need a purpose for his theoretical club, like what would be the mission statement?
While he pondered these thoughts in a hall secluded from where anyone could see him, he suddenly found himself being grabbed and pushed against the wall.
It was the purple haired girl from before, "where's my apple?"
The boy froze, surprised by the sudden confrontation and the girl's direct approach. He blinked, his brain scrambling for a response.
"Uh, w-what do you mean?" he stuttered, his heart suddenly thumping loudly in his ears. He'd been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed her sneaking up on him.
"I want my God damn apple." The girl said.
The boy was about to say something but he very quickly noticed something that shook him to the very core.
Standing behind her, was some kinda samurai? It wasn't just some kinda samurai, it was nine feet tall and bore the face of a monster
The boy's eyes widened in terror as he spotted the colossal, monstrous samurai towering behind the purple-haired girl. Fear gripped him like a vice, his mind struggling to process the sight before him.
He tried to speak, tried to form words, but all that escaped his trembling lips was a hoarse whisper, "What… what is that?!"
This surprised the girl. " Huh? You can see him?"
Taking advantage of the girls temporary confusion, the boy pushed her off of him and ran.
He ran.
His shoes slammed against the tile floor, backpack bouncing wildly against his shoulder. The hallway blurred into streaks of lockers and confused faces as students turned to stare.
"What the hell-?"
"Why's that guy running?"
He didn't stop.
Because that thing
That thing behind the girl,
It wasn't human.
Nine feet tall. Armor like black iron plates. The curved helmet horns scraping the ceiling lights. Its face looked carved out of bone, hollow eyes glowing faintly red like dying coals.
And it had been looking directly at him.
Not at the girl.
At him.
He burst through the stairwell door and stumbled down two steps before grabbing the railing to keep from falling.
His chest burned.
His brain screamed the same thought over and over.
That wasn't real.
That wasn't real.
That wasn't real.
Except
The girl had said something.
"You can see him?"
Which meant she knew it was there.
Before he knew it, he was on the roof, almost like he unconsciously ran up here.
He realized that it was a dead end, and he tried to go back down, but the girl was right behind him, forcing him back onto the roof.
He backed up slowly as she walked towards him.
He backed up slowly, the gravel on the rooftop crunching under his shoes.
The wind up there was stronger than down in the halls. It tugged at the girl's oversized hoodie and whipped strands of her purple hair across her face, but she didn't seem bothered by it. She just kept walking toward him at a calm, steady pace.
Not angry.
Not rushed.
Just… deliberate.
His back hit the chain-link safety fence at the edge of the roof.
Dead end.
His heart pounded so hard it felt like it was shaking his ribs apart.
"Okay," he said quickly, hands raised a little. "Look- about the apple, I didn't steal it, exactly. It just… rolled out and you left and I"
She pulled a sword out from seemingly nowhere, before the samurai disappeared. She got in a stance, much to his terror.
He didn't even have time to finish his sentence.
The girl moved.
One moment she was standing ten feet away.
The next she blurred forward.
Steel flashed.
The blade slid straight through his chest.
For a second… nothing happened.
No pain.
Just confusion.
He looked down slowly.
The sword was buried to the hilt in the center of his chest.
His brain tried to reject the image.
That's not real.
People don't just-
Then the pain arrived.
It exploded outward like lightning through his ribs, a violent burning that ripped the air from his lungs.
He choked.
"W-why?"
Blood bubbled in his throat. His legs buckled and he collapsed to his knees, the rooftop gravel biting into his palms.
The girl stood over him, completely calm.
Annoyed, even.
"Guess he didn't eat it after all"
The girl watched as the light slowly left his eyes, as he lost consciousness.
She started walking away from him afterwards, not thinking much of the boy who'd just died by her hands.
That is, until she couldn't move. Because seconds after she had stabbed the boy, her body completely stopped obeying her, refusing to move in front of the terrifying presence behind her.
She turned around to see the boy she'd stabbed, standing up, except, his hair, once black, was now a brilliant gold. And his eyes bore a look of smug superiority.
"Oh no"