2Different Sides

Chapter 3

So kindergarten went by. It mainly consisted of me sitting alone. I didn't really play but when I did I would play alone.

I got used to the nicknames and comments.

Weirdo.

Idiot.

Ugly.

Scary.

Ten years, and I still remember who said every word of those.

Anyway, in grade one I was in a different class with different kids.

I thought it was going to be good, but I was wrong.
Everything just got worse.

The first day I walked into class, my head down; I didn't want anyone to look at my face but c'mon,  you can't keep your head down for a whole day.

So I raised it when I was asked to intoduce myself, and every single eye in the room was on me.

I tried my best to make new friends but whenever I sat with anyone, they would ignore me and act like I was never there.

Like in all teen fictions, there's that one popular mean girl that the whole school knows and sometimes the whole school also knew her parents.

Well, my life isn't a teen fiction book. Yet, I had that one popular mean girl and she happened to be in my class.

Sandra.

Sandra was that one girl who was liked by everyone and had everything she wanted.

The majority of school knew her and her mother for some reason that I don't care about.

She had green eyes, golden hair, pure white skin. She was simply pretty.
She had friends and all the teachers loved her.
Everyone would listen to her and no one would ever tell her no.

My problem was never with anythimg except the fact that she was pretty and every single kid listened to her.

So, Sandra was playing one day and of course, all the kids were playing with her.

Except me.

I was 6-7 years old and even after a year of being alone I still wanted to play with other kids.

They were playing hide and seak and I walked innocently towards them not expecting what I was about to hear.

I walked to a girl my hight with brown hair.

"Can I play with you?" When I was young I took permission to do anything. Even if someone had something that belonged to me, I would still ask for permission to take it back.

"Ask her." The girl said pointing at a golden haired girl.

"Who?" You can't blame me for asking; there were many kids.

"Sandra. She's the only one who can tell you if you can play or not." She said and I noded at her walking towards Sandra.

"Can I play with you?" I asked again but this time I was about to be assured that my life would always be a living hell.

"What?" Kindly note the rude voice.
I repeated my question and I -till now- wish I hadn't.

"Of course not. Look at you and those weird glasses you're wearing." I stared at her not knowing what to say with all the other kids who were staring back at me as if I had grown a second head.

Just as I processed her words my hand found it's way to my glasses and I heard a couple of laughs around me.

"Look honey, simply I am pretty and I only play with the pretty kids. You're not on the list." She turned away and everyone was back at playing hide and seak as if nothing had happened.

So I walked away ready to sit alone for one more year.

Now that I think about it, I  don't know how a 6 year-old would talk like that but she did.

-----
So grade one also consisted of me being alone with no friends and I didn't tell my parents about it.

Nothing new really happened in grades 2&3.

I was still alone, bullied physically, and not respected.

One day in grade 2 if I remember right I had a fight with a boy in my class cuz he pushed me first.

I simply stood up and pushed him back until he walked away.

That day I was so proud of myself and when I went back from school I told my father about what happened and here's what I got.

"You're a bad girl."

"But dady he pushed me first." He really did.

"Don't push anyone back. Just tell your teacher."

"But she doesn't do anything." Every time she would be like don't do that again and I swear to god she was neber concerned. She just said that as a part of her job.

"Still don't push anyone back. It will get me into problems."

So with that my father has taught me to never stand up for myself and I did listen to him.

I was only 7 or 8 years old and I thought that whatever your parents told you was right.

And I was bullied for a few more years.

At first I only listened to what they said, I was able to take in their hits and pushes.
Then I started crying every now and then.
After that I would cry every night on my bed till I sleep.

By the end of grade 3 I started getting tired of this life and honestly being bullied since you were 5 years old isn't something easy to cope with.

I just knew it would pass by like the other years.

♡♡♡
*So this is how it went in grades 1, 2, and 3.

*Isn't it funny how I remember things that happened 8-10 years ago and I don't remember what I ate today?

*I wish I could be able to help all the people who are bullied out there (physically/emotionally) because it really sucks.

*Anyway thanks for reading, feel free to msg me anytime.

*I love you ~Hazel