I stared at my reflection; I couldn't fight the wave of shame that rolled over me. Voices swirled inside my head, making me feel dizzy. What a freak, loser, four eyes, freckle face, shorty, fat bitch; it's your fault that I slit my wrists! Tears sprung in my eyes as I fought back the memories. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone, that familiar excuse was all I could make to them even though I wasn't in the wrong.
I remember spending my days hiding and my nights running from the nightmares. But everywhere I ran to, I found a dead end. Have you ever rung for help and felt the line disconnect? We'll take care of the matter in hand. Then why didn't I feel safe? I tried to do what my dad said a lifetime ago, fight back. But it wasn't that simple. They'd make it out like I asked to be bullied and then they wouldn't help because to them I am just as bad. I guess I've always been the bad apple of the bunch, I've never looked appealing like the size zero models on fashion magazines. I bet I wouldn't even taste nice once you peel back the layers, because there would always be that sour part of me you'd find first. I promised myself, I'd be brave. What I did was try to lose myself in the lesson, engross myself in algebraic equations, literacy devices and science diagrams. GEEK! Cocky Shit. She thinks she's better than everyone. The accusations would come but I didn't mean to be like that. I was lost.
I wished sometimes, that I should have been invisible. Maybe then things would have been better. People wouldn't have laughed at how I looked. People wouldn't have hated me because I focused too much in lessons. People wouldn't have noticed me. Sometimes, I wished I'd just shut my mouth, lost my voice. At least that way, I couldn't have tripped myself up and fed myself to the dogs. I remember waking up each morning with the fear hanging over me like a dark cloud. I begged for a day off everyday. I'd catch up the work, just please don't make me go in. When I did, I hid in the library even though the library clerk hated the volume of my voice. It was the only place I could lose myself in a book or game and even be loud which more often than not I was. But outside, I had nothing to hold onto, so it felt as if I was falling. I had no one to catch me because I was alone in a place of hundreds of people who noticed me for the wrong reasons. When I came home, I just wanted to drown the world out. Lie on my bed with my headphones in and shut out the world and imagine a place where I could run to.
Everytime I caught myself in a reflection, I wanted to wipe it away. So when I had to get changed for PE, a subject that I've never enjoyed for obvious reasons, can you imagine what it was like? I grabbed my stuff and changed in the PE toilets. But the door, from me to the rest of my peers, didn't protect me like I hoped. Deodorant under the door, till I could taste the sickening scent of a rich bitch. My phone being taken for all the girls to laugh at how simple it was and how stupid it was to have images of my favourite band, McFly; only to simply be returned when the teacher turned her attention back to the class. Or that time when they wet my school uniform and I had to sit for three hours with a wet t-shirt and jumper. Each time, I told the teacher it got worse. And each time, the teacher retorted that I had no proof or witnesses because let's face it no one likes to be a grass. I wiped my eyes and glared back at the reflection. I grew to hate myself, just like they did. And when I had to be in photos, I never gave a genuine smile because I've had no reason to.
I didn't think I'd see the end of it. Instead I thought, it would drive me out. Make me run. God knows, I've wanted to. I've felt so weak that even with just words, they could make me crumple. Sometimes, I think back to that and wonder how I did it. How I got through that and cope with snide remarks now. I don't think I'll ever know. But, as corny as it sounds, I know I'll have friends and family that will look at what kind of person I am and cherish that rather than the plain and bulgy appearance on the outside which is why I care about them so much for seeing me the way I've wanted to be looked at; instead of the way I've been looked at for the last 5 years.
I wonder if this will make any difference to how I look back on it. I hope it'll push me away from it till I don't well up at the mere thought of it. And to those that wonder, I am much happier now and am dreaming of so many things and having my own adventures, however little, that I could never have even dreamed of back then. I didn't post this for sympathy or pity because I don't need it and I don't want it. I hope in some way it can help people who know what it's like to hate themselves because of bullies. And if I could say one thing to them it's "dream" because no matter what happens, no one can take your dreams. And when you get past it, maybe one day you can accomplish them. As for me, I've given up resenting the face that stares back at me in the mirror. I'm also hoping to receive confidence training, to get over the last effects left by the bullies.