January 22, 2013
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I have never had a happy childhood. Ever since I was little I’ve been subject to bullying. I never had any friends, and up until middle school it had never really bothered me. I started sixth grade and made about two friends. In eighth grade those friends would be the ones who saved my life. The bully’s name was Alexandra. She was the most popular girl in my school. She had tons of people buzzing around her like a moth to light. Were those people her friends? Probably not, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was what she made me feel like. Unimportant and useless. All day, every day she made my life a living hell, and when she couldn’t, her number one flunky – Zoey – did. They told me how I would never amount to anything. That I was a freak, and would never have any friends. They even tortured me when I wasn't in school. They got a hold of my phone number, and they sent demeaning texts and called me just to tell me how awful I was. I changed my phone number, but somehow they got it again. It never stopped. I reported it to the principal. She said she had a zero tolerance policy on bullying. Apparently that was a lie. It went on and on for several months. I started to skip school. I skipped about once a week. Then it was twice a week. The torture was so bad that I started to skip more and more. When I did go to school I knew I could always count on Alexandra to be there and drag me down into a deeper depression. One thing she told me hit hard. She said “You’re a dirty little thing, and no one will ever love you.” I went home that day, got a knife from the kitchen drawer, and proceeded to cut my wrists over and over. I cried from the pain. Not from the knife strokes that quickly drew lines of crimson blood, but from the pain of being alone. The pain of feeling weak. Cutting was an escape. It let me feel physical pain instead of just the emotional. A few days later the DA contacted my mom. I skipped school so much I had gotten truancy. We went to a first time offender’s class, and she made sure I was in school every day. The torture from Alexandra and her posse dragged on, and so did the cutting. The only thing I looked forward to from then on was the escape that that knife would bring. Every day dark blood trailing down my arm sent a flood of relief through me. I looked to that relief and I saw only one way out. It was in April 2010 when I decided I was going to take my life. I was in my last hour of the day, and I was contemplating on what to write to my mother. How to tell her that her baby girl was gone and how to tell her I loved her. My decision was made even more final when another one of Alexandra’s posse, Kierra, wrote “Julie loves to kiss lesbians” on the white board. My two friends noticed tears in my eyes and they walked up to me, forced me into a group hug, and told me they didn’t believe a word of what was on the board. It was then that I broke down crying, grateful for what they had just done for me. Although they didn't know it. I’m now a junior in high school with lots of friends, and a full life ahead of me. I don’t know what would've happened if my two friends back then hadn't told me that. I’d probably be decomposing in a cemetery, forgotten forever. I haven’t told anyone this. I don’t know if anyone will read this, but if you are, and you’re one of those people who don’t know if it’s worth living, I’m here to tell you it is. I’m here to tell you to speak out against bullying. Speak up, and be someone’s hero because just a few short words can save a life.

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