I wake up every morning dreading the same thing. School. Normally, someone would enjoy going to school. They would get to talk to their friends, and have fun. But not me. It’s different.

I arrive to school. I am headed towards my locker when a boy trips me. I fall, my books spread all over the carpet. I quickly gather them up, hoping not to a fool of myself more. I stand up and rush down the hallway, eyes piercing me like daggers. I stop at my locker and open it. I’m about to shove my books in my locker when the same boy slams it shut in my face. “Whoops.” He mutters, tauntingly in my face. His breath smells of stale cigarettes. Him and his friends leave, laughing. I’m still standing there, astonished. When will it be over.

I shove my books into my locker and make my way to my first class. As I enter the classroom, I search for a spot in the back of the classroom. I don’t like being in the front. It makes me feel... vulnerable. Tiffany must have noticed I wanted a seat in the back. “Here ya go!” She jumps out of her seat, her blonde curls bouncing weightlessly on her shoulders. “Um, thanks.” I stutter. I slowly make my way to the back. I plop down in the chair, feeling a little more relaxed. Until I notice everyone laughing. “What is it?” I look around. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. “Taylor look at your butt!” Someone shouts. “What?” I stand up and turn my head, to see what I sat in. More laughter. A piece of chewed gum sticks to my jeans. My face turns hot.

I rush out of the classroom and into the girls’ bathroom. I throw myself into one of the stalls, wheezing. Anxiety is taking over again.
I purge. I cannot help it. Tears start to run down my face before I realize I’m crying. I text my mom to pick me up, that I just don’t feel good. I refuse to tell her I’m picked on. That would be embarrassing.

She picks me up. I spend the rest of my day in my bedroom, feeling depressed. I’m still a little shaky about early. I can still hear all of their laughter. “Taylor look at your butt!” I lay down on my bed, feeling exhausted. Physically and mentally. I drift off to sleep.

The next morning I lay in bed asking myself, what will happen today?

If you notice someone getting bullied, you need to do something about it. Don’t just sit there and watch it happen. You have to imagine yourself in that person’s shoes.