My name's Kandice, and I'm 17 as a sophomore in Florida. I had a friend, who was my everything since I was 3 years old; we slept over each others houses, went on vacations together, pretty much had that relationship that would've lasted a lifetime. But one day, my sister came home, OD, after a party.... my parents did everything they could to get her better, and away from the area we lived in. Which they did, we moved from the far side of Casselberry, to the opposite side of Winter Park. I switched schools, my sister switched her schedule. My sister was in High school, when she was bullied. People told her constantly "Go die, gothic!" "you don't deserve to live, breath or eat fatass!" and others such as "how do you even get boyfriends?" I was 8 when my sister would come home crying everyday, and run to the bathroom. I was traumatized, badly, when she would have blood all over her clothes. By time I got to 5th grade, I wasn't pretty.. I was made fun of. I was overweight, and quiet. I had some friends, but they were real, only used me. I felt like, I should just die. When I started feeling alone going into middle school, I got really close to my grandmother on both sides. They told me exactly what every grandma does. "Don't feel bad, meet new friends" Except when I did, It was the complete opposite... my 'friends' were the ones using m secrets against me. There were a couple guys in middle school that I liked, and everytime I said something to my friends, theyd ruin everything for me. 8th grade was one of the hardest years of my life enduring... I met a girl, Rachelle, and we were best friends. I went on vacation to Ohio with her, and we did everything together. Until I was almost expelled. Rachelle, my bestfriend, told everything I ever said about this chick to her face. And I was so close to fighting. Until I met Christina, my bestfriend to this day, who convinced me not to. I was in the back of a cop car, with handcuffs, and my dad on the phone. I was really close to following my sisters footsteps at that rate. But freshman year, did nothing but get my hopes up. I was relieved at the fact my past was behind me, and I’d finally get a fresh, mature start. But that was the opposite. The highlight of that year, was the fact I started driving in the 3rd month of school. My grandfather started getting really sick, and very.. forgetful. I’d go to his house everyday, in the morning and at night, and just talk to him. I lost all of my friends, I had 2 true friends, and a crap ton of drama. Being made fun of, coming home crying. Going to school crying, coming home in the worst mood ever. I could never catch a break. Being called “fatass, blob, gordo, lardo, etc” it really hits you, like you never think it would. Summer of 2013, I went on vacation, thinking that it would be the best time of the year... it wasn’t. My grandfather ended up going into the hospital half way through my vacation. From june 21-June 30.. my grandpa told me everything.. everything from the time he was 12 and had his first crush. I told him the same. The last words, on July 3, 2013 at 2:55 (8 minutes before he passed) I said “please, help me through highschool, and find a way to get away from bullies, and help me help someone else.” He turned to me, and said “I’ll always be there, now you be the backbone.” Obviously, sophomore year sucks.. crying myself to sleep, only having Christina as a friend, boys not wanting to talk to me cause im overweight, getting dirty looks from skinny girls, being called nams as you walk through the halls, teachers and principals don’t do a thing about it. But, I defended 2 people when they were being bullied, because my grandpa said to be the backbone. I never thought I was going to be a victim, and there were times I did think that Suicide was the only way out.. But, I had to be strong, I had to prove to my family and myself that I will make a difference.
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