Fighter

I sat on the ground of the hall. Quiet, focusing on a point far away. Just like every morning. I seemed to watch the people passing, but I barley took notice. I had seen most of their faces many times before and I was sure they never noticed me at all. Though I was avoiding to look at my nearby classmates I couldn’t cut off their voices. They weren’t talking about anything important. They never did. Just the usual “Oh I’m so cool, cause I got wasted.” stuff. But it was better listening to their nonsense than them getting bored of themselves. As long as they were busy thinking they were cool they wouldn’t have to deal with the thought that they weren’t. Cause then they would search for someone to push down. Of course …. Pushing somebody down makes you so much cooler.
You think you can push somebody down and then think you are better than those you pushed down? I tell you something: You are not! The feeling of being better won’t last long. And those you pushed down will rise again and become stronger than you will ever imagine. You are digging your own grave. The pushed-down will become strong and you will still be miserable.
But back then, that morning at school, I tried to be invisible. Making no sound, no movement. Just keep low! As always. If I was lucky they didn’t take notice.
The hall filled more and more and it became harder to follow the conversations. I could only hope they were all in good moods.
Then they came and my stomach turned. I looked away quickly. “Please, don’t come closer.” I thought. No luck for me. The hall was already filled with pupils and through the others had been avoiding coming to close there was only some space left very close to me. Where on earth was Mrs Stiller? I was hoping she’d hurry to unlock the door and start class. Plus it was much safer to have a teacher around. They wouldn’t dare saying anything then.
Kristy and Chandra came closer. Chandra pretended I wasn’t there, while Kristy looked down at me as if I was dirt. Then they started talking. They didn’t lower their voices or anything, simply because they didn’t care if I heard or not. I was worth nothing to them. Not even worth having secrets from. Who should I have told them to? My friends? They didn’t think I would have any. Maybe I should’ve told them, that nobody cared about them and I had better things to do then talking about them in the precious time I didn’t have to see them. But I kept my head low and pretended not to be there.
“Did you do the homework?” Molly interrupted their talk. “We had homework?” Kristy asked. That was so typical. They never had homework. “Yes, I was looking for someone who actually did them.” Overall, I guessed that there was only a hand full of people in our class with done homework. Cause they were oh so busy living their super cool lives and getting wasted. I myself had the homework only because I did them on the bus. I couldn’t do them at home. I had the time, but when I thought of school I also had to think about them. I simply wanted some time for myself. Though it was hard to totally get them off my mind.
I looked a bit too long at them. “What are you looking at? I’m not gonna ask you for homework. You are way too stupid to get them done.” I snorted. As if I would’ve let them copy my homework. There was no way they could treat me like dirt and then expect to get anything from me. They wouldn’t even get my words. They would use anything I could say against me. Not that they’d have a chance in a discussion. But it would never end up as a fair battle. There were always at least three of them and they knew no boundaries.
“Oh, so you think you are smarter than me?” Kristy said. I didn’t think so, I knew it. There had been enough proofs. “If you were that smart, you knew that you should better hide in a closet. But I still see you here. Which kind of pisses me off. I hate seeing ugly things.” So we had reached that point again. I am ugly – How inventive. That wasn’t even worth a reply. Still it hurt. The ironic part was that she’d go on with calling me fat, to then start with the next topic: my hair.
Chandra stood right next to her, this time she was looking at me. But she didn’t say a word and seemed bored.
It had always been obvious what her true intention was. Calling somebody stupid, who is smarter than you? Calling somebody fat, who is thinner than you? Making fun of somebody’s hair while your own looks like greasy spaghetti? No need to be a psychologist to see what this is all about.
They had tortured me over and over again. I felt low. I felt alone. I never told anybody. My family must have realized that I had changed. I had been less bubbly and locked myself up more often. But I faked a smile and took care not to mention school at all. My best friend turned out to be the only one I gave a few hints. Too bad I never really told him the whole story. He could’ve protected me.
But I never wanted anybody to feel bad for me. I didn’t want them to think I was weak. And I didn’t want them to think I was a loser with no friends.
I refused to see myself as a victim. I never wanted that role. And I learned, I learned how to deal better with my bullies. They hated being ignored. They hated not seeing the pain in me. I had become really good at hiding it. But as hard as I tried not to let it upset me, it never really worked. For a time I forgot I smart. I forgot I wasn’t that bad looking at all. I forgot I wasn’t fat. And I forgot I had beautiful hair. And I also forgot that I wasn’t the one with the problems.
I looked into Chandra’s eyes. She looked away. She didn’t say anything. As usual. And that was probably the thing that hurt me the most. Looking at the person who once called herself my best friend and then turned against me. She stabbed my back. She made problems she had with me other people’s business. She told lies and brought them up against me. She played the victim to earn sympathies. And she was cruel enough to watch them all push me down. And that’s how less she must always have cared about me.
I will always remember what they did to me. I will always remember what they did to others. I will always remember the pain. Cause in the end it only shows that they couldn’t break me. It shows that I’m stronger. I’m a fighter!

 

 

YOU ARE NOT ALONE!
Ask for help!

http://www.bullying.org/index.cfm

http://www.stopbullying.gov/index.html

http://www.nationalbullyinghelpline.co.uk/

http://www.mobbing-hilfe.de/

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Posted on August 20, 2014, in The story behind and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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