Dead_Mametchi
Well-known member
I was bullied for nine years without the teachers doing anything, but it was because i was different in any way. they made a big deal out of everything i did wrong, because they had codes for everything, fashion, choice of subjects, who your friends were... fashoin code for girls were very tight jeans and short tops, even in winter. you could of cousre not wear anything thicker than a college sweather. The other ones smeared their faces with makeup, while i wore almost nothing. they bleached their hair to almost white, while i kept my natural, dark red-brown color and wore long, dark garments (i was one of the only four labeled goths). I paid attention in class, and that labeled me "free-range punching-bag". i READ during lunch and instead of eating cinnamon buns and drinking coke, the fashionable food, i had a packed lunch everyday. once they poured soap into my lunchbox.
in winter, while the other kids almost froze to death in their skimpy attires, i was wrapped in my long black cashmere cloak. i still have that, and it's a daring garment for a narrow-minded community. in my spare time, in stead of hanging out in the malls, i hung out at the coffee shop and the art gallery (i still do). I remember they drew a caricature of me in the girl's room. it was explicit for all the wrong reasons, and the principal contacted the police.
I woke up every morning with a stomach ache. but as they kept it going on, i also thought they were pathetic. they were culturophobic, weak and feeble. it was hard to hold that thought when they spat on me or beat me up for being who i was. sometimes they still harass me on the street, but do you know what? They're losers. i am soon twenty years old, and i have a job and an assigned spot in the local art gallery one month a year. the bullies are mainly workless morons who either still lives at their mom's or is abusing welfare money. I have a life!!!
in winter, while the other kids almost froze to death in their skimpy attires, i was wrapped in my long black cashmere cloak. i still have that, and it's a daring garment for a narrow-minded community. in my spare time, in stead of hanging out in the malls, i hung out at the coffee shop and the art gallery (i still do). I remember they drew a caricature of me in the girl's room. it was explicit for all the wrong reasons, and the principal contacted the police.
I woke up every morning with a stomach ache. but as they kept it going on, i also thought they were pathetic. they were culturophobic, weak and feeble. it was hard to hold that thought when they spat on me or beat me up for being who i was. sometimes they still harass me on the street, but do you know what? They're losers. i am soon twenty years old, and i have a job and an assigned spot in the local art gallery one month a year. the bullies are mainly workless morons who either still lives at their mom's or is abusing welfare money. I have a life!!!
Half of the time he's my friend, and the other half he just randomly comes up to me and makes insults.
