BULLIED 2

Submission 1142

It all started and ended when I was in the sixth grade. I mean sixth grade is already a hard year, considering it's people's first year in middle school.

I was happy most of the time, until winter break.

That's when someone sitting behind me, started calling me names.

At first, I shrugged it off. I mean, why would I care about what anyone else thinks?

So the days carried on, and the name calling kept on going.

I still didn't let it get to me.

After a couple of days, she started using violence.

When the teacher wasn't looking, my bully would hit me on the head or wherever she could reach.

She would ask for things like for pencils and paper, and I would always give her what she wanted. It wasn't that I was afraid of rejecting her- I was a little afraid, but I was just one of those overly nice people.

She would take out the lead of my mechanical pencils, and do little things like that. Soon she started pulling my hair and taking my things.

I started dreading that class a lot.

The teacher would sometimes see, but would never do anything.

I was one of those quiet kids that didn't talk to anyone, so I didn't tell the teacher.

Once it got a little out of hand, and a bystander told her to stop bothering me.

She didn't.

She started making me dread a lot of things. I started questioning myself.

I asked myself if I was good enough, and started listening to depressing music.

Nobody knew how much it affected me. Actually, no one knew about it. Not even my best friend.

I was just scared that she would do something horrible to me if I told anyone.

I started crying myself to sleep, and wishing for that class never to come.

Everyday she was always there.

Soon, her friends started ganging up on me.

They would try to do things to my hair, 'accidentally' punch me, and making fun of me.

I wasn't comfortable enough to tell my parents. We didn't have that kind of relationship with each other.

Instead of being mad at the bully, I started being mad at myself.

I started cutting my wrists.

That's when I couldn't take it anymore, I told one of my old best friends.

I told her everything and how I started cutting.

I just felt trapped. I felt insecure and broken.

It's horrible when people make you feel like that.

I would sometimes fake being sick, so my parents would pick me up early.

I didn't know what to do. I was slowly starting to die on the inside.

The only thing that really brought me joy, were my friends.

So I tried to focuse on them.

I stood up for myself in front of the bully, but she just laughed.

I told another one of my friends, even though I was sort of a loner because I had two friends, and no classes with either of them.

I appreciated them though. Some people don't even have any friends.

My best friend was the one that snapped me awake. She told me that I was good enough, she told me all the good things I was.

And she was right.

Even if the bully was using violence against me, I never let her be happy to know that she made me feel bad.

There were many moments where she made me feel like the smallest person on earth, where she made me question my life, where I wanted to die.

I learned not to give up because even with the circumstances, I knew there was light at the end of a dark tunnel.

My friends helped me until school ended.

The bully made me a stronger person. She might have made me cry and all that bad stuff, but she made me prepared for the actual world.

ADVICE: If someone's bullying you, don't stay quiet for so long like I did. Tell someone.

You might think it'll make things worse, but it won't if you tell the right person.

Please don't keep it all inside, because it'll kill you.