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First grade. The girl that would soon be my tormentor somehow managed to drag me into a classroom- without getting permission. Naturally, we got caught. Now, I'm somewhat of a goody-two-shoes, so this was pretty scarring, especially for my first-grade self, who never did anything even remotely like this. That was the beginning of my journey with bullying, trying to break free for five years and never coming close.
In second grade, the bully- I'll call her C- was talking about a birthday party, when she came over to me and told me that I was invited! I wasn't very popular back then (and I'm still not), so that sounded like Heaven. But as the weeks went by, no invitation came, and C, whenever I came near, began to talk to others about her "awesome party!" I asked when my invitation was coming, and she would always say something along the lines of "Oh, I forgot it! I'll bring it tomorrow!" and you can guess that nothing came.
Third grade was when the yelling started. I'd do something fairly simple, like say, "how about we try it this way," or "Hey, guys! Can we play ____ today?" And C was always there, and she'd yell at me the minute I dared to go against what she and my "friends" wanted to do.
Fourth grade- the yelling got worse. Every day now, she'd yell over little things. Now I was really hurt and confused, and I didn't want to go to school. I told my parents, and they told me to talk to the counselor. I did so, but nothing happened. Just the daily routine of bantering and more yelling, and C started doing things like nudging me out of the way and taking my place when my friends and I were standing together. And what did my friends do? Absolutely nothing.
Fifth grade- the worst year. I could barely drag myself out of bed in the mornings. There was a program at my school called Peer Mediators- the kids selected would help other kids solve problems like the one I was having. The problem was, I was part of that program- and so was C. Don't even ask me what they were thinking, letting her in.
One day, the yelling and problems was really bad. The conflict started just as recess ended, and I knew we had to try and work it out, so I tried to take charge and told my teacher that C and I had a problem and could we talk it out? She was annoyed at me and said something along the lines of "Now? During Math?" but sent us out- alone.
Long story short, she was yelling at me- again!- telling me that she was "keeping her voice down" and she "Was trying to be nice." We were both in tears at this point and another teacher walked by but didn't do anything. My teacher came back outside after a wile; she was really mad because we had spent the entire math class talking out "drama."
The next week, we were both called to the principal's office. He told us there that we needed to stop this silly conflict and make up like friends. At that point, I realized that the teachers were blinded- they thought it was just "Friend drama." No, I was thinking. This is so much more.
Not a single person helped- not my friends, or the counselors, or teachers, or even the principal.
Thanks a lot, guys. You left me standing there, alone, with no one to turn to.
As for the person who said "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," you're wrong. Thanks to C, I have deep scars though me that I can never get rid of. The only way to patch them is to stand up and speak out. I hope that you all will do the same.