Friday, June 14, 2013
I don't even know what to say to you. I don't know what to say to any of you. Does it matter? I am talking to all of you.
You told me to kill myself. You called me names, horrible names. You pretended to be my friend and then you manipulated me for kicks. You made me sit at the boys table, made sure none of the other girls played with me at recess. You shoved me in the camp showers so hard that I fell. You poked me with a yardstick again and again and again in class so I couldn't pay attention. You threw a textbook at me, luckily missing my body. You tried to grab me in science class, pretended to grab me under the tables, on top of the tables. I watched you bend a girl's thumb back until she screamed and you still didn't stop. You tried to ruin my life. I don't know how sincere you were in your efforts and I'm not sure I want to know. All I know is that you almost succeeded.
But dear bully, I am here today. You scarred me and these gaping holes inside of me are there because you came at me with your sledgehammer words. Some of those scars will never go away. But that's what you wanted, wasn't it? You wanted someone to ruin because you have been ruined. You wanted to make someone weak because you are weak. You probably cry yourself to sleep every night, don't you? I shouldn't be angry at you because, in reality, you are a sad, pathetic lowlife only worth my pity. But still, I am angry.
I am angry that you stole my innocence. I am angry that you stole my childhood. I am angry that you made school something I hated instead of loved, made school a place where I felt scared and insecure and vulnerable. I am angry that you stole my trust, marred all of my future friendships. I am angry that you broke me down until I was brittle, that you wore down my defenses until I was too weak to fight. I am angry that many of you are still doing your old game but worse now. I am angry that instead of choosing to better yourself from your bad experience, you chose to worsen yourself. I am angry that you let the cycle continue. And yes, while I try to forgive you and I try to understand you and I try to have compassion towards you, I am angry. Some days, I feel so angry that I can spit at you, claw at you, scream.
But I won't. The past is the past and what's done is done. I'm moving on with my life. I am angry but I am trying to forgive. Do I wish you well, wish you to mend your ways? Do I wish you a hell like my old one? I cannot say.
I can see you try to get at me again. Some of you come and you hiss like the feral cats you are. One of you tried to come at me again today, tried to humiliate me in front of my class today. Great way to finish off the school year, right? But you are only a nuisance; you do not affect me and I can see it in your eyes that that kills you to know that I don't care. Don't you understand that I have already fought with the lions? I am through with you, with all of you. You are pathetic; your words and harsh treatment say more of you than of me. I will be better than you. I am leaving this school to escape you and your memories, to clear my head of all of these toxins. And I will be better for it.
You have made me stronger, dear bullies. Yes, you almost killed me but now you have made me stronger. Wiser. I should thank you for that but I can't. Because at what price did that come? Will your other victims be as lucky?
I'll never understand what makes you get high off of seeing another person bleed. What you get from kicking a person that's already down. All that I know is that I refuse to stoop to your level. I refuse to keep the cycle going. And you know what? I'm starting a new cycle. One of good from my bad. One of positive energy. And I won't ever let any of you tear me down again.
No Longer Your Victim