What Others See About Me This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

November 30, 2012
Are they staring? What if they are talking about me? Worse…what if they don’t believe me. I pass a group of girls staring at me. I feel like they are picking apart everything about me. Ever since it happened, I am being judged. Most days I want to disappear into the crowd and move somewhere where no one knows my story. I like to think about who I would be if I lived in another state…would I be a popular kid? Or maybe a fashionista. Maybe I would become one of the art geeks… But leaving is not possible. I have to stay here and be the person that everyone thinks I am.

To my parents, I just am a disappointment. They aren't disappointed in me, but instead in themselves. They struggle knowing that they couldn't protect me. I can see that pain that this causes them when I look in their eyes. Comments like “I want to take away your pain,” only makes me wish I could have hid the truth from them. To my dad, I still am daddy’s little girl. But I am also the child he never wanted to have.

Growing up, he told me about how he was bullied in high school. He would sit alone at lunch every single day. He wished his kids would have a different life growing up. He wanted to have the super popular kid. The kid that everyone loved…the kid who doesn't carry around unbearable hurt and fear…the kid who didn't go through what I did.

To the kids at school, I am the center of gossip, the person with the story that rarely happens. Most people think I’m lying, so they think they can bully and make fun of me. They assume that I won’t stand up for myself and fight back. I am the person who is always missing school and who is in the guidance office. Students feel like they can create rumors about me. Even though they make up stories, I know who I REALLY am.

I am misunderstood who would give anything to change time. Every single day, I wish I could go back to June 10th. Every single day, I wish that day wouldn't forever haunt me. I want to move on and never return to this town.

But my talents are being ignored. I am creative, compassionate, and athletic, yet no one cares. Instead , they defined me by a single event. I do not want to be known as the girl with the story. I instead want people to see who I truly am.

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