bullying the bullies | aspir | ✓

03 | talk

03

t a l k

The loose pants my mom is wearing is now stained because of my tears. I'm a crying, sniveling mess and she keeps rubbing my back, and smoothening my hair.

"Shh dear... Don't cry, it's okay now." She lifts up the cup of cocoa that's on the glass table in front of us and hands it to me. "Here. Sit up straight..."

I pluck the cup from her grasp and sit up, my chest rising up and down. "I hate school, mom! It feels like I'm trapped." I wipe my face, and continue. "It's so unfair. No one knows what we experience. All that you and the teachers tell us to do, doesn't work! If we tell on the bullying, we get bullied even more. If we stand up for ourselves, we get bullied even more. If we don't do anything, we still keep getting bullied!"

"Lyra, I would agree to homeschool you in a heartbeat, but listen. This is the reality, dear. This is only high school, and if you can't cope with this, what will you do in college or work? There are more cruel battles that you will have to fight, and this is nothing."

Nothing!? My car getting crushed is nothing!? I love my mom to bits and pieces, but somethings she just doesn't understand.

I stand up with the cocoa in my hand. "I'm going up to my room," I tell her, with a sniff.

"Don't worry about your car, Lyra. Your dad just left me a message saying its in a salvageable condition. You might get it in about a month." She picks up a magazine from the table and buries her nose in it.

It's not the condition of my car that's put me in such a mood. Well okay, partly it is, but most of it is due to the fact that someone people like Mikaela have the power to do such things to me. Like I'm just a tiny ant, that she can crush on and move on without facing any consequences.

I sigh before pushing my bedroom door. This is my safe haven. I stare at my unmade soft bed, my cluttered study desk, and the bean bag near the window. As long as I'm in here, no one can hurt me.

I take a sip of my cocoa before opening my laptop. I sign into my blog, and refresh the page as the influx of new notifications come in. I spend half an hour sifting through my comments, each one bringing a smile to my face. No one, apart from my parents, know about the blog I run. I started it three years ago, and it suddenly reached an extreme level of popularity after my post titled, 'Girl Struggles.' I know people of my school read my blog posts because I've heard them talking about it so many times. Under the name of Cynical Angel, I'm a completely different person. Satirical, sarcastic and sassy. Not the terrified Lyra Collins.

I suddenly spot another comment, posted an hour ago.

blueflash_1703 - I love you so much. I wish you will be my girlfriend.

I laugh out loud, as I stare at the comment. Whoever this is, doesn't even know me and yet, claims to love me.

I've got similar messages previously, some of them quite jarring. Some of them also threatening to dox me and my entire family.

But this comment however, stands out because of its naivety. Almost as if this person actually knows me.

I click on the profile and open up a private message. Choosing to ignore the latest comment, I address one of his previous comments.

Cynical Angel - Are you still getting bullied? I hope it's stopped, and sending you lots of strength. xx

His reply is instant, almost as if he was waiting for me to send him a message.