I’m walking through the hall when I hear someone say “Hey******!” the words are so colorfully offensive I wish not to repeat.  I turn around to be shoved into a locker.  The other students push me, treat me like dirt, and metaphorically walk all over me.  I treat it like a game and say, “Ha very funny guys!”  They turn around and smirk at me and say, “There’s more where that came from*****!”
On the outside I am brave and sarcastic, while on the inside I am trembling with fear.  That’s when they come up with another way to torment me.  They call it: The Touch. 
Whenever I bump into someone in the hall they look at me with disgust on their face and they run off to touch someone else.  When they do that I feel like an untouchable from the middle ages. I am the only one who is untouchable in the school: sad, lonely, friendless, and untouchable me.  Usually I try to let it go but some of the words stick. I start thinking would people miss me if I was gone?  Would people notice if I was gone?  I keep thinking these thoughts and many more.  Then I think I would never see Aubrey and Breanne grow up. I wouldn’t get to make new friends I wouldn’t be able to say I love you to my parents and many more.  I start crying and run to the bathroom.   On the way I find myself on the cold unforgiving floor.  “Look what we have here the little ****** is crying!” They kick me and call me many more colorful names.
When it seems there is no end my friend steps up and says, “Knock it off! You’re acting like little kids. If you actually got to know her she is the nicest most beautiful person I know. I don’t want her to cry anymore.”
I smile as tears streamed down my face. “Thank you.”  She smiles and looks at me, “It’s true you know. You are beautiful.” She helps me up and we walk down the hallway a friend forever to keep.