It was a beautiful morning, and I had just got off the bus from my house, which was about 20 miles away from the private school I attended. I sat alone on the bus, as I was considered the “poorer” family in the district. My mom worked at the high school as a teacher, so that entitled my brother and I to go to the elementary school for almost nothing. I was never the “popular” kid, the person to boast if I got a new Juicy couture sweat suit, or a new Tiffany’s necklace. I was simple, dressed casually, with my hair in a knotty bun and Sketchers on my feet. I woke up with anxiety, and a stomachache every morning, waiting for the bus to pick me up. This was third grade, the year 2004. As I headed to my cubby to put my bag down, the girls would stare at me, and watch as I stumbled over their feet waiting for the insults to come out of their mouths. I was friends with one girl, Jenna, who considered herself to be in the more popular or elite group of kids in my grade. I tried not to pay attention, as I wanted to fit in, to the fact that she would make sure no one would talk to me, and if they did, they would call me “fat” and “disgusting.” I remember as I was sitting in English class, notes were passed around that said, “Samantha is fat, and ugly, and no one should like her.” No one did like me. I was merely alone in my own anxiety.

On that morning, I was sitting in social studies, trying to ignore the stares and remarks that were surrounding me. The principle called me over to discuss matters that would ultimately change my life forever. I sat down in a hallway face to face with her, watching as she pulled out a letter addressed to Jenna. The letter had curse words that were utterly nauseating, and the letter was addressed to Jenna from me. I didn’t write this letter. I knew I didn’t write this letter. No one would believe me. Once again, I was alone in my anxiety awaiting salvation. My hands were shaking as I looked over into the class that I had that period, watching as Jenna smirked with her posse of girls. I was suspended that day for something that I didn’t do. Life is unfair, and life can be cruel, but to this day, I am a changed person. Bullying is a disgusting habit that can make one suicidal, depressed, and broken. To this day, I get Facebook inboxes from Jenna and her friends, changing the story from third grade, and making me flashback to my suicidal days of horror and anxiety. I want to tell the girls out there who are going through bullying, stay strong; because you are the only one who matters. You are beautiful.

**All names were changed**