A Word of Advice

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“Fat.”

“Freak.”

“Anorexic.”

“Slut.”

“Trash.”

“Nerd.”

“Loser.”

“Crybaby.”

“Gay.”

“Lesbo.”

“Eyesore.”

The words you say swirl around in my mind. As I’m sure they do everyone else you torment, everyone one else who you suffocate with your hatred. What have we ever done to you? I’m sorry your self-esteem is so low you have to make our lives miserable, you make us outcasts.

And maybe it’s better to be an outcast; at least we don’t hurt people. I bet you don’t even have a second thought about how much you hurt us. How many of us have you called fat, wide load, Big Mac Inhaler? Do you even realize it makes people turn to bulimia or Anorexia?

Oh right. That would just give you something to tease us about. What about when one of your victims dies? The slash went too deep that time. The knife “accidentally” slit down someone’s wrist. A person dies of malnutrition from starving themselves. Or there esophagus gets eroded from all the food they throw up. You don’t think that far ahead, or do you just not care?

Those comments you come at me with hurt. I’m not afraid to say I’m hurt. Go on, keep calling that kid fat, I can see you with a beer gut in twenty years. The difference between you and me is that I can control my tongue, I think before I speak, and a word of advice, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

I know you aren’t going to stop, they never do. Just know calling that kid fat won’t make you skinny, calling her ugly won’t make you any more appealing, and calling her a slut won’t make you a prude. It doesn’t make you popular, it makes you a bully and me and the others victims.





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