• Middle school horrors


    Staring at the ceiling, my head slightly tilted backwards, I attempted to keep the tears from spilling out of my eyelids. The sneers and jeers of the bullies next to me were on a loop in my head, repeating that insufferable word over and over and over again. The teacher just sat there, witnessing it all. She just sat there, watching me take the emotional jabs, as if she thought it would do no harm if she did not interfere. The ceiling tiles consisted of bitter edges that seemed to cut into my soul.

    I was enrolled at Winters Middle School, and I loathed every second of every minute of every hour I was at that school. I was constantly taunted for my lanky tallness, as well as my face that few people recognized as beauty. Most people recognized my face as ghastly and bird-like. At the start of sixth grade, Delila deemed me “Dinosaur” and everyone who knew her knew me as just that. A dinosaur. Not just a dinosaur, an ugly dinosaur who should kill herself.

    Unfortunately, Delila was in almost all of my classes, but she was the most malicious in Beginning Art. Even worse, she had accomplices in that class. Delila, Aaron and Morgan (Morgan was a boy, by the way) would taunt me until the second before the bell rang to go home. Everyday after Beginning Art, I walked out either almost crying or wanting to end my life so I would not have to go back to that evil school again.Ā  They would chant “Dinosaur” until the teacher would finally decide that they were annoying her. But on one particular glum afternoon, Delila, Aaron and Morgan decided to go too far with their torment.

    As I sat down at my table, I reached down to grasp my notebook out from my backpack, but there was no notebook. There was not even a backpack. There was a backpack in the sink though, being drowned in watery, leftover acrylic and oil paints. When I tried to rush over to the sink, Morgan tripped me. I flew into the dirt encrusted faux-marble floor; I heard the annoying high-pitched laugh that haunted me in every class. It infuriated me. I had never been so angry until the moment her annoying sound waves of laughter reached my eardrum.

    I wanted to snatch my soaking wet backpack and show it to the teacher, but I could not move after the cold ground made contact with my back. I felt paralyzed as the entire class laughed and pointed at me. As much as I just wanted to leave, I could not. If I ditched at that moment, I would be the one in trouble. Not them. Not the three people that made me want to end my life. I would be the one to be punished for “disturbing the class.” So I attempted to pull myself together. I asked to go to the bathroom and I stayed there. I stayed in that graffiti-covered stall, pathetic and whimpering. I did not cry. I could not allow myself to cry, and I needed to walk back into that classroom with my head held slightly higher and my ears deaf to all their hurtful words.

    So I walked back. I walked back blinking so hard I could not distinguish what was in front of me. I sat down and stared for the rest of the period. Luckily my backpack was returned to me, but without a wallet. It was the closest thing to an apology I would ever get at that unbearable school. It was not the soaking of my backpack that hurt me; it was that no one would help me. No one ever stood up for me. Not even the teacher. Not even acquaintances or friends of friends. No one.

    • Let your talent and success be your sweet revenge. Look at you, already out there. Those who taunted you are not relevant. Welcome to the party!

    • You are strong like the willow, and far more beautiful. They were just jealous. What Gary said!

      • Carolyn Wyler

      • February 3, 2013 at 1:04 pm
      • Reply

      You are an amazing, beautiful and talented person. I am so sorry you had to deal with those people. Yes as Jesse said they had to have been jealous of you. Welcome to the iPinion group.

      • David Lacy

      • February 3, 2013 at 1:23 pm
      • Reply

      Gary’s reply is spot-on!

    • I am so happy you shared your story with us. The more you talk about it the better you will feel. I am hoping this was a while ago and you are off enjoying college or an occupation and that you have become the person who stands tall and doesn’t let this ever happen to you again or any of your friends. I hope their Karma comes back to get them and they realize that bullying hurts and their deep lack of self respect caused them to be this vicious. I won’t even address the teacher. She is below addressing.

      • Maya North

      • February 3, 2013 at 4:04 pm
      • Reply

      Oh, if I could have gone in there with Nana Bear in full charge… Oh honey love, I am weeping because I lived it–oh I lived it from second grade to 10th. Now at least in my case, my bullies were in no way jealous of me. They were full of hate and contempt and their cruelty and my anguish was their entertainment.

      But I am here to tell you, darling one, that these small hearted monsters, if they blossom at all, it will be a sad and paltry thing because of the cruelty in their hearts, while you, sweet love, will bloom long, triumphantly and gloriously. You will have a life full of riches and beauty–and empathy and strength, because you survived and prevailed. Everything that hurts or challenges us comes with gifts, and those you keep, however high the price. It got better for me–it did–and life just keeps getting better šŸ™‚ Big hugs and nose smoochies!!!

    • You are an unusual, beautiful, smart, talented girl. Those who can’t measure up will try to tear you down. In the process, they only make you stronger. Don’t listen to the trolls. They’re small and ugly, and are already all they will ever be.

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