There were three of them the first time. I was ten and so were they. They made up a game like the "cheese touch" from Diary of a Wimpy Kid, only with touching me instead. Eventually I told someone and it stopped...mostly. No one ever directly apologized and no one ever got more than a "cut it out" from any of the people who knew. I didn't care. I thought it was over. There were still kids who were mean, as there always are when you're an outcast with very few friends and very large secrets. It wasn't until I changed schools and was so happy to never have to see people again that I realized I'd been kidding myself for four years. Just because they stopped didn't mean it was over.
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BULLIED
Non-FictionBullying is a very serious issue that effects the lives of many. I hope that by many of us sharing our personal stories, it will not only help victims realize that they are not alone, but also help bullies realize how strongly their actions and word...
