My Life Story

May 7, 2008
By Marissa Menzano, Marlton, NJ

In elementary school, life was a fairytale. School was exciting; I looked forward to going to school every day. The first week of middle school, I quickly realized that I just simply did not fit in with the same group of friends from elementary school any longer. I don't know why we lost the connection. I found a new group of friends and changed my style to theirs, basically gothic, just to fit in. My family hated it, but school seemed more important. I needed to fit in. I could see the look of fear on my mother's face when she met my new friends. She and my dad knew these weren't the people I should be hanging out with. I fought with my parents, telling them that these were the only people who accept me. Although my parents kept a close eye on me, I grew close with a few girls, especially one friend. We would walk around on the streets for hours and hang out at corner stores. It seems ridiculous now. My family had few problems, but their families had many. Some of my friends were smokers and worse.

Seventh grade began like sixth. I had good times with friends, going to the mall and the movies like other teenagers. I hadn't picked up bad habits that I believe my parents had expected me to, like smoking, drugs, or drinking. Then I met one of my guy friend's brothers, a grade ahead of me. He seemed so nice. We quickly became friends and then started "going out.” Everything was going way too perfect. About six months into this relationship, I received a phone call from one of my girlfriends who said she saw one of my close friends kissing my boyfriend earlier that day. I felt heartbroken. I asked the friend about it two days later because she had been avoiding me. She said it was true and that she was sorry, and I forgave her. Then, a few weeks later, with no talking, my boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend: I'm not sure what we were at that time) asked me if I was okay and wanted to continue the relationship. I said yes as long as he cut off communication with my friend. He told me that he couldn't because she was one of his best friends. I decided that I could no longer be friends with the girl because she had proven I was not important to her. Then I decided to break free of the clothing choices I had made for the past two years. The fact that I was no longer just like them, aggravated my friends even more.

The next day my friends were no longer mine but all Melanie's, whom I decided not to be friends with any longer because of the boyfriend situation. I sat alone at lunch that day. I went home and acted like nothing had happened because I was so sure that things would return to normal soon enough. After a few more days, I finally told my mom. I didn't know what I had done to make everyone hate me. My mom then taught me that you don't always have to do something. About a week before school ended, walking down the hallway turned into hell. I got mean glares and cruel names. Horrible rumors, the most hurtful things that I had ever heard, went around the school about me. I went to the principal and told him what was going on, even though I wasn't very comfortable talking to him about what the rumor concerned. He told me to get over it. After that, I went to the nurse and said that I needed to go home. My mom left work and picked me up.

I cried for hours that night. At home, there were threats and insults on my instant messenger. I was told to watch my dogs because they would be killed. My family and I were being threatened. I began not sleeping at night and always crying. Finally, the school year was over. That summer was my loneliest ever. The one time I went out with friends was a disaster. It was a disaster. While in a store, I saw two of the girls outside and they began to scream horrible things, like in school. I went home and cried because I felt so trapped and hated.

When the time for school rolled around again, my parents didn't want to send me back. My parents called every private school in the area; they were all full. There was no way out. I cried every night as it got closer and closer. The threats were not subsiding. We brought print-outs of the instant messaging attacks to the school. The school read them over and appeared to be appalled that students were capable of saying these things at age 13 and 14. The school said they could not do anything about the online bullying and assured us that I wouldn't be harassed in school any longer. The police department gave us the same answer we got from the school, that nothing could be done.

The girls made sure that everyone hated me so that it was impossible to make new friends. Strangers knew supposedly true things about me that had never happened or that I had never said. The online torment soon spread to phone harassment; before I knew it, the girls were looking for me outside my house. They told me I was going to get jumped or worse; I left early almost every day. All day every day, I felt depressed.

By the middle of November, just when I couldn't endure any more, my old best friend confronted me at my locker. She shoved me down and kicked and punched me. People gathered to watch and cheer. Finally a teacher pulled her off, and I was sent to guidance. Girls pointed and laughed at me. One said, "Where’s your mom now, she can't protect you now, huh?" At guidance I was put in a room for three hours with no phone to call my parents. The principal said he wanted get the story straight before parents were called. Finally, I was allowed to call my mom. As strange as it sounds, I was relieved that I no longer had to worry what was going to happen at school. It had happened, and was done.

My parents kept me home the next week, picking up my school work so I didn't fall behind. Stress headaches kept me from sleeping; I felt dizzy and sick. A neurologist concluded sending me back to school would only increase my depression and headaches. For that insight, he is my hero. A teacher from my school came each week with work. This year of my life I say I lost. Nothing was normal anymore. Though I still got internet torment and prank phone calls, the worst was over. They had torn me down as much as they could. My parents were moving us soon to a new town. Life did improve.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!