C h a p t e r 2 2

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◻ C h a p t e r 2 2 ◻

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◻ C h a p t e r 2 2 ◻

She sent me messages over the weekend.

I ignored.

Deep down inside, It really hurt.

She slammed me into my locker Monday morning.

She laughed.

Classmates laughed.

They always laugh.

I asked her why she acted so cruel.

She slapped me and told me to shut my mouth.

I did. I didn't want trouble.

In class I couldn't concentrate. My tummy hurt from the pain.

I skipped dinner, breakfast too. If I didn't eat they couldn't call me fat.

They cornered me, gave me some pills. Told me to take it, I'd lose some weight.

I took it. I felt so sick.

I puked and puked. It felt like I'd die.

Why me, why did they pick on me. I did nothing, or maybe I did. Anyways it was probably my fault.

I kept quiet, I told no one.

Why?

Because I was Afraid.

Afraid of being seriously injured.

I'd been warned not to ask for help, if I asked for help, they'd hurt me more.

So I did what's best, I stayed silent, as I lived in constant fear of being tormented if I told a teacher or even worse my parents.

So I did what's best, I stayed silent, as I lived in constant fear of being tormented if I told a teacher or even worse my parents

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