The Bully

The Target

A young girl walks through her high school halls, clutching a book tightly against her stomach as if it were a shield. She has her hair loose, allowing the tendrils of it to gather by the sides of her face. Another shield. She stares pointedly at the floor, taking quick, hushed steps as she reaches the stairs. Gingerly, she climbs up them one step at a time looking around for those frightening familiar faces. She feels the clamor of the students around her, pushing past her, fighting their way through the crowded hallways. The world turns into a blur around her as she sights a face at the top of the stairs, lounging against the corner in the stairwell, smiling as it recognizes its prey. It's too late to turn around. It's too late to hurry past.

She's been spotted.

Too late. Too late. Too late.

Hands grab her book and she is pulled to the corner. Cruel eyes crinkle in laughter. No words are spoken. In the breath of a moment, the girl's hands are empty, flailing in the air for purchase as she is tumbling, falling backward. Her head meets a sharp corner, her hand hits the wall with a sharp crack. With pain erupting in her, she slides down the rest of the steps. She hears something skidding behind. It is her book. Her useless shield. There is one more flash of that gloating smile before it rounds the stairs. A few kids glance at her. One hands her book to her and gives her a hand up, feeling sorry for what happened. The girl takes a quick inventory. Her hand hurts, head is throbbing, and ankle is on fire.

When asked how she is feeling, she mutters the usual. "I'm fine, thank you." Nothing broken. She is pushed forward by the teacher behind her, the voice chiming, and "Time to get to class darling." methodically. This girl is me. Just another student. Just another victim.

When they acquire a target - teenage girls - with the determination of a private assassin, will stop at nothing to take down their target. They're relentless. They're cruel. Their methods are insane.They're never to be underestimated. I was tortured, tormented, isolated andsocially maimed them, who I once called my "best friends". For two years, thisis the world I have lived in. For two years, I have skipped lunch to get to the safety of the library, bury myself in books and count the days till school is over.

Words like bullets, raining down upon you till there is nothing left. You don't know what's going on in anyone's life but your own and when you mess with one part of a person's life, you're not just messing with that part.Unfortunately, you can't be that precise and selective. When you mess with one part of a person's life, you're messing with their entire life. Everything affects everything.

Sometimes they told us we were better off dead.

Loser.

Wanna-be.

Nothing.

Everyday.

I was the weakest link.

I was the wounded gazelle. And thus, I became the target.

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wohooooooooooo first chapter donee!!! Finally!!! It took me quite a while to write this and I'm pretty content with the result. I'm still not sure about the chapter name but I think it's fine. What do you guys think? Lemme know in the comments:) Also I need a cover for the story. If any of you can make one I'd be veeeerrrryyyy happy. And oh yeah question of the day:-

- How's life? (IKR? like how innovative Olivia
like good job.)

Oh yeah and another thing. My name is Olivia so yeaaaaaaaahhhhhh. Anyways call me Liv. ( I don't know I just had to do this introduction type segment). And this story is not gonna be long. There'll just be like 3 chaps in total so yeaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh.

All the love,

Livv <3