You’d think the abuse would stay at school, but it didn’t. Somehow their words had followed me home, as they blew up my inboxes with their words. Talissa: You’re such a dumb b****. And you’re a little skank too. You’re so f*ing fat, you look like a whale. Little pu**y, you wouldn’t even fight her. You better grow some balls and fight back you little s***. Jeanette: Yeah, you’re such a slut. Why don’t you just kill yourself? Nobody even wants you here. You’ll probably give us an STD you dirty skank. My inbox was filled with messages like these. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what I could do. I wanted to tell somebody, anybody. But who would listen? I finally gained the courage to tell my mom. I slowly walked up to her crying and showed her the computer screen. She was quiet for a minute assessing the situation, silently reading the messages. She finally said, “Who sent you this?” I silently shook my head be she grabbed me. “Who did this to you? Tell me now.” I looked at the floor, to ashamed to show my face. “Some girls from school.” “Some girls from school? Are they in your class?” She looked at me. When she received no reply she asked again, “Are they in your class? What are their names?” I looked down. I couldn’t answer her. They’d find out and everyone would hate me for it. A tear rolled down my cheek. “Sweetie, just tell me. I want to help you. I can make this go away.” She said holding me. I sobbed, “You can’t. This won’t go away.” She slowly stroked my hair, comforting me. “I promise I will do whatever I can. Just tell me their names.” I looked up and told her. “Talissa and Jeanette?” she asked. “Yeah. They’re in all my classes. I’m going to call your counselor.” She said as she got up. “No you can’t!” I stared at her with fear in my eyes. If they got in trouble my pain would only greaten. “And why not?” my mother asked. “They’ll know it was me. They’re going to get me. They’ll hurt me. Everyone will know it was me and I’ll be known as a snitch for the rest of my life.” “I’m not going to let them hurt you again. This is the only way.” She gave me a hug. “Did I ever tell you the story of when I was bullied?” she asked. I looked up at her shocked. “No. You were bullied too?” “Yeah. These girls didn’t like me very much. So they wrote a letter saying horrible things about me, calling me names, and passed it around the whole class. They made it into a petition and everyone signed it. Then they passed it to me. I was devastated.” She smiled weakly. “What did you do?” I asked hopeful. “I told my mom of course. She was pissed off. She sent a copy of a letter to the parents of every student who signed it and made sure they were punished.” I stared at her with wide eyes. “But mom, it was different back then. And grandma is really scary.” “That may be, but I just don’t want anyone to mess with you, okay?” “Okay.” She got up and called the counselor. “He’s going to call you in his office tomorrow so don’t be afraid, okay? I sent him copies of the messages as proof.” I looked at her afraid. I had so many doubts and fears rushing through my mind. I was scared, but in a way relieved.

We were in class when they called Jeanette and Talissa to the counselor’s office. The ooh’s began as everyone wondered what they were going in for. Five minutes later I was called in and received puzzled looks from everyone. The few that did understand what was happening were fuming. To them I was a tattle tale, a traitor, a snitch.
The walk to the counselor’s office was nerve racking. I stopped every few steps wondering if I should continue. You have to go. They need to pay for what they did. I opened the door and walked in the counselor’s office. The two girls were seated in spinny chairs and I was expected to sit by them. I slowly sat down. The counselor looked at me trying to read me. I wouldn’t let him. I wouldn’t lay myself out like an open book anymore.
“So Emma. You know why we’re today,huh?” I shook my head not looking up. “Girls could you step out for a moment?” He gestured at Jeanette and Talissa.
“Oh yes, sir.” They walked out acting like little angels, What a façade.
“Emma, I don’t think they’ve done what you’ve said they’ve down.” He said. Tears rolled down my cheeks. He thought I was lying? “They’re two of the top students at the school. They’ve had a clean record. What would suddenly make them start acting out?” he asked. I didn’t know what to say.
“But you got the papers, you saw what they wrote…”
“Are you sure this is them? Myspace is full of people impersonating others..”
“Yeah I’m sure. They make my life miserable every day. Why don’t you believe me?” I said, sobbing.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you. I just don’t want to punish an innocent girl just because someone said she did something.” He said. He used this voice that made me sound stupid. I hated it.
“I’m not making this up! I showed you the letters!” I said fuming.
“Calm down. Well, what do you want me to do?” he said looking at me with a mocking face. Why was he asking me? He was supposed to know!
“I don’t know.” I said. In all honesty, I didn’t. I mean how could I?
“Well I can’t do anything if you don’t know.” He said.
“But I don’t. I mean I-” I stopped speaking. No words were coming out, I was talking nonsense.
“How about this,” he said putting his hands on the table, “Why don’t we send a copy of the letter to their parents and be done with this whole problem?” he sat back and smiled. He thought he had won, thought he’d fixed everything. But he hadn’t. Not even close.
“That’s all?” I asked. No detention? No suspension? Zero tolerance policy my ass!
“Pardon me?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing. That sounds fine, I guess.” I knew this wouldn’t fix anything.
He clapped his hands and stood up. “Well, that’s great. I’ll be in contact with their parents. You may go back to class now.” He gestured towards the door.
“Thanks. I guess.” I said as I walked out the door. I should feel relieved. I should feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. But I was scared. Scared they’d find me. Scared they’d hurt me again. Scared I’d be alone.

Talking to the counselor helped, I guess. Both of the girls wrote me letters saying how sorry they were and how they couldn’t wait for us to be friends. I knew the counselor put them up to it, because they were as cruel as ever. They just couldn’t be seen doing it. This protected me from the physical abuse and any contact with them, but what it didn’t protect me from was them spreading rumors.
Each one they told spread like wildfire. After a few days of constant stares and people laughing at me did I finally hear the rumors.
It was like their voices were everywhere. The torment was never ending; it followed me everywhere I went. They echoed in my head, never going away.
“I heard she’s been pregnant for a while.” She said.
“Yeah, you can almost see her baby bump.” Another one added.
“Yeah, she looks obese.” Jeanette said.
“Yeah, she’s been putting on some baby weight.” He said.
“I heard she’s been with over 20 guys.” Talissa said.
“She probably doesn’t even know who the father is.” The last one said. There laugheter rang in my ears. It was cruel, mocking laughter filled with hatred.
I was numb, I couldn’t feel anything. I was glad I was numb, because otherwise I’d be in tears. They thought I was fat. Is that why they didn’t like me? I knew I was bigger than other girls, but wasn’t that because I was muscular from sports? I was 110 pounds in fifth grade, when the average weight was 96.
That’s it. I’m fat and they all know it. But I won’t be for long.
I began to not eat. I’d go all day only eating a granola bar. At dinner, I’d find clever ways to hide my food. After a while I began to look sick. I hadn’t lost much weight, but my healthy glow was gone, and my eyes had this dull, empty look to them.
“Why aren’t you eating?” my mom asked. She was worried, I could tell.
“I’m just not hungry.” I said, blowing off her question.
“You must be. I haven’t seen you eat a thing. You just came back from swim practice, you must be starving.” My mom handed a plate of food to me. Beef Okazu, my favorite. It smelled revolting as I had lost my appetite for food of any kind. Just the thought of eating it made me gag.
“I’m not hungry. I had a big lunch.” I lied.
“You didn’t eat anything after school. I saw you.” My sister said. S***, she caught my lie. What was I going to say now?
“I ate at school. I was in the cafeteria.” I lied again. Why was I doing this to them? All they’ve ever done was love me and I continued to lie to them. Why was I such a bad person?
“Emma, look at me.” I was starting to zone out on a chair when she began to hold my face so I looked at her. “Emma, when was the last time you ate?”
“I ate at lunch today. I already told you!” I tried to look away but I couldn’t. She looked so pained. I was hurting her, over and over again.
“Don’t you dare lie to me.” She looked at me with the saddest expression I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t lie anymore.
“A few days ago. I’m just not hungry anymore.” My confession brought her more pain then it did to me. She was falling apart, just like me. I couldn’t be doing that to her. Could I?
“Why are you doing this sweetie? You’re so beautiful.” She reached out for my face but I wouldn’t let her. Tears rolled down my cheek.
“I’m fat! Everyone thinks so!” I sobbed. Everyone knew it was true.
“No you’re not! Not even close. Why can’t you see how beautiful you are?” she asked.
“Because I’m not! I’ll never be pretty. Or skinny!” I fumed.
“Who told you that? Are those girls bothering you again?”
“No! Just drop it.” I ran off to my room and locked the door.
“Sweetie!” she called after me but it was no use. I wasn’t going to listen anymore. I was done.

The next few days were quiet. Things at home were tense and none of us really said much to each other. School wasn’t any better. As much as I tried to forget the rumors and the harassment, the more it happened.
I was all alone. No one was there for me. I’d spend hours in my room curled in a ball crying. I had no purpose in life, no goal. I was falling into nothingness, slowly losing sight of everything loved. I had been so hurt, so full of pain. I was so bitter; I hadn’t felt happy in a long time.
But soon it would all go away.
I’d get a sharp object like a needle and drag it across my skin over and over until I bled. I enjoyed the pain; it was the only thing that made me forget my problems. It took my mind off my problems for long enough for me to feel happy, even for a short time.
This never really helped. As much as I loved the fact that it made me forget, it was only temporary. The problems at school got worse; I was shunned by my own friends. I had never felt so alone.
I was home alone when I walked into the garage and I saw a knife. It was relatively large and sharp enough. I wondered how it would feel to slice through my skin until I bled to death. All my problems would disappear. I wouldn’t burden my parents anymore. It’s not like the kids at school would miss me. It seemed like everybody’s life would be better if I weren’t in it.
I picked up the knife and felt the blade with my finger. It was so sharp. I should do it. I had to do it. This was the only way.
What are you doing? Are you crazy? You have so much to live for!
“What do I have to live for? Everyone hates me! I’m better off dead.” I shouted at the empty room. I pressed the blade against my skin. I could feel my blood pumping through my body. The room filled with the sound of my heartbeat.
You have everything to live for! Why end your life when it has just begun?
“Everyone would be better if I was dead. That’s what they all want.” Every single one of them would be better off without me. I had to do it. I pressed the blade farther. My breath quickened. My heart rate increased. I was terrified. But of what?
Stop! Don’t do this! Think of your brother, think of how he’ll grow up never knowing his sister. Don’t do this to him.
That was true. He had just been born. We had almost lost my dad a little while ago. They couldn’t lose me too. I began to shake. My hand trembled and I dropped the knife. My knees buckled and I dropped to the floor. What was wrong with me? Why was I doing this? I didn’t hate life. I had so many things ahead of me, yet I was ready to throw it all away. Was I crazy?