literature

She Was Being Herself

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There was a girl who was bullied from all the way from fifth to eighth grade. She was teased for being herself. She made have not been perfect, but at least she was being herself. She liked making weird sounds, she liked talking to her own voices, she liked having her own world, and she liked being herself because that was her. She was being herself. However, during her fifth grade, everything changed. No one respected her. She had friends, but she felt hurt, trapped, locked up. She was called "vampire" for saying she was relating to one, one person even told her to bite that person's neck. She tried to stand up for herself, she just got laughed it. She tried to get help, it still got worse. She tried to have God on her side, but she came home crying that day. Hey, at least she was being herself.

Sixth grade was better, but it still was awful. Two guys were her main problem. They laughed at her "dancing" on the playground. She cried and a teacher comforted her. A boy in math class told her it was her fault for not getting the work done and was called retarded by him. She cried that day. But she was being herself. Seventh grade it came back. No students did not like her, because she didn't like the "too happy" people. She refused to befriend them because they didn't like them and she thought they were annoying and obnoxious to her. Honestly, she was being herself about them. Another girl in her English and Math class wanted her dead. What? Why? What did she do to her that made her deserved that? She was just being herself.  Then a third girl came in and said she was dating a male friend of her and she even called her a bitch. Despite the fact she was being herself. Two boys in her Social Science class made fun of her Hungarian nationality. Dude, she was being herself. In the talent show, she wanted to show her pass story by singing "Concrete Angel" by Martina McBride, but everyone hated her story and singing. They secretly laughed at her. To be fair though, she was being herself.

And then finally eighth grade came. Her nightmare was now hell. She thought it would be better. She thought she would have a better year. No, she was wrong. A new girl came into her life and crushed her world. She stinged her everyday in English Class, so much it felt like a scorpion's sting. Painful and it swelled up everyday. She thought she would be better until the day came. She finally snapped! She threatened to kill her. She wrote down on a paper, gave it to her friend who sat by her and told him to "bring an ax tomorrow so I can chop off her head." However, it was too late. She wanted to do a joke, but she was caught and she regretted it. The next day, she was called in the counselor and surprisingly, the girl who bullied her and she threatened to kill was in the office, too! The bully told her what happened and the girl was blame for. She wasn't in trouble, but she was in a deep hole. One she couldn't get out. She was sent home after that. She was then homeschooled for the rest of the eighth grade year. But, was she being herself?


No.

That girl that was being bullied for those four years couldn't do anything. She felt pain and suffer. She was in a hole she couldn't escape. People didn't help her out. Some did, but others ignored her. She was afraid, she was crying, she was hurt, she was not being herself. That girl was me. I was being myself.

But not at the same time, I wasn't.
"Dear Agony
Just let go of me
Suffer slowly
Is this the way it's gotta be?
Don't bury me
Faceless enemy
I'm so sorry
Is this the way it's gotta be?
Dear Agony."

"Dear Agony" by Breaking Benjamin.

Okay, this is something I had to post up.

So every since last night, I'd been remembering the times where I was bullied from fifth all the way to eighth grade. The reason why was because of this Fine Brothers video that touched me so much I as about ready to break down in tears. [link]

So, I had to do this. I had to read anti-bullying stories, I had to fave anti-bullying stamps, I had to release to depressing songs that related to the topic, and I even had to tell my friends this.

Also, thanks to this story. I think it's about time you guys knew the real me. My back story.

I'd always lived my life as a creative, imaginary girl. I had imaginary friends. I even had imaginary friends who were from fictional things I liked liked Disney, Mario Brothers, and classic cartoons like Ed, Edd, "n" Eddy and My Life As A Teenage Robot. I loved them and they loved me. Everyday and night I would dream and imagine myself as a hero. Save fictional characters from evil, fought off evil characters. No one seem to care up until fifth grade. Where it all changed. All of my dreams were gone, my world was crushed, and I felt weak. I said I was related to Dracula(long story, since I am Hungarian, my dad tells me Hungarian-related stories and one was about this queen who drunk young girls' blood because she accused it would make her younger). I was called "Miss. Dracula" thanks to that moment. I tried to stay strong, but it became worse. People in my class didn't respect me, people insulted me for as the words say "being myself."

I learned to stand up for myself, but the bullying got worse. My new imaginary friends were...The Total Drama Characters in which I became a fan in sixth grade. And after I'd watched the "Search and Do Not Destroyed" episode, I cried. Next day came, I challenged Heather and I apparently "danced." Two boys teased me for that and I cried. My teacher comfort me, but I just felt empty later on.

After elementary school, junior high came. The bullying still followed me. There was one girl in my English class I really dislike because she was always happy, which not a problem with that since I'm always happy too, but she was too annoying and obnoxious for her. That was like the only emotion she had. Then another girl in my English and Math for some reason didn't like me. She even told me she wanted me dead, even though I did nothing to her, or at least I remember I did nothing to her. And also, a third girl came in and asked me if I was dating my friend, Ilan and I told her to shut up on the top of my lungs and then, that's when she called me a bitch. In front of her friends, and the tears broke down. The rumor would later start up again in Math Class where since they was a substitute teacher that day, they started it up again and my hole got deeper. Later on, during the last day of school, summer came. I entered the talent show, sang "Concrete Angel" by Martina McBride to explain my story. I thought it worked, but no. Everyone laughed.

Eighth grade came, and finally: the nightmare turned into hell. A girl, taller than me, and possibly stronger as she was on the volleyball team sat by me in English Class, Sixth period. She insulted me for being myself. Then one day, I couldn't take her mouth anymore. I blew up. I threatened to kill her. I didn't want to. I was caught because I made a regretful joke. The next day, I was send to the counselor's office and the assistant principal's office to explain the story. I wasn't in trouble, but I was being blamed by the bully. My hole got deeper than ever. Me and brother were both sent homeschooled to end the bullying for me, while he had failing grades.

So there, you all know the real me now. The moral of the story was while people will respect you for being you, others will bully you, laugh at you, backstab you, taunt you and hurt you for being you. :depressed: But just remember, it does get better. It did to me. High school has changed my life for good. No one bullies me, I made new friends like ~BigZMinion973 and ~hollyziggy who could love me, help me, and be there for me when I need it. :heart:

Okay, that was my first anti-bullying story. I'm glad I did make this. I knew I had to make it.

:heart:Enjoy if you like.:heart:

Song Inspiration: [link]
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Comments70
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amika245's avatar
I think there's two kind of pain when you're a teenager. Either you suffer for hiding who you are to be accepted. Or you suffer for being who you are.

I suffered because I've chosen to be who I am. So did you. But at least we are ourself.