“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better,” -Albert Einstein.
Walking down a path covered in red and yellow bright leaves, I see something catch my eye on the left. It’s a cluster of dark brown trees, huddled together. Most of their colorful leaves have fallen and are piled around the trunks. The leaves starting to turn brown, only the centers are colorful. They are standing away from the others, a group of three tall oak trees.
Huddled together in a group the wind of the trees whisper.
In the wind, I can hear them telling the secrets of the people that walk past. My friends, other visitors, I can hear all the secrets. The cluster of dark trees are like bullies. They draw me in, listening to my problems. Looking calm and inviting, they allow me to open up. I go to them when I’m having a bad day. I trust them to be my friends, to listen. It’s not until everyone knows my problems that I figure out who they really are. They are bullies, feeding on my problems.
I’ve dealt with many bullies growing up. I've went through a lot, shoving, teasing, name calling, I have been through it all. I have always been the new kid in school. I have been teased for how I dress, talk, and even walk. The fact that I don’t wear make-up, or always have my hair up are also reasons why I have been bullied. Many people, like friends and family members, have told me that I am not loved and that I should kill myself. Being bullied is not something to be taken lightly. My life would be completely different if I were never bullied. I would not have scars, or tear stains down my cheeks. I wouldn't cry myself to sleep often, I could be more trusting in other people. I wouldn't be so scared and skittish.
Bullying feeds the monsters inside.
Everyone has voices in their heads and bullying makes me listen to them. The tall dark oak trees huddled together, makes me remember the feeling of being talked about. Leaning awkwardly together as the three stand talking about my friends and me. Grass that died from what they said, lay at their feet. The bright red and orange leaves, fall and slowly die as they hear the horrible words of the trees. The oak trees are a clique. Not always does bullying kill people. A short and thick tree stands in the corner, looks like it is slowly falling. But, he still lives. He struggles and he makes it through. All those layers are what make him who he is. It keeps him strong.
The wet, damp smell of fallen leaves brings me back to being pushed into large mud puddles. Walking to and from school was the hardest. I was shoved into mud, had ice thrown at me, and have had people trip me, into the rocks. The claustrophobic feeling, I get with all the trees surrounding me, takes me back to everyone watching the way I dress, walk, and how my hair is. I hate the feeling of being watched. Everyone's eyes following me. Everywhere I go. The forest, for many people, brings them a sense of calming. Me, it brings out the fear.
Leaves stick to my shoes, as I walk out of the woods, heading back to the bus. Birds are chirping, wolves are howling, and trees are dancing. Trees stagger around the entire forest. Some are clustered together; some are standing alone. High school. The forest is high school. Cliques, nerds, outcasts and then me. Red and orange leaves fall in my hair, as the wind blows it around. My hair is a tangled mess, but I continue to walk. The crunching of sticks echo as deer walk over them. The sun is rising. Purple, pink, orange and red peek through the trees early in the morning.
Even with all the bullying I have been through, I am still here. I may have cut myself, just to please the voices, but I have made it. I have not killed myself, no matter how hard it is. They have yet to take me over. I am strong and will make it in any way that I can. I won't give into the voices, I won't fall into their trap. I will stand up, stay strong and make it to a better day.