"Why didn't you tell me?! We could have stopped this so long again, you stupid girl!" My teacher, making me feel as though the fact I was still getting bullied was my fault, trying to justify it.         At the begging of school, primary school, I guess I don't remember but I assume it is was okay. Nothing too much. Then I remember getting a bit older, maybe about 8. That's my earlier memory of trying to cut myself. I remember being pushed down in the dirt because I was different.  From then until last year, ten years later, the bullying continued. Through High School, girls would spread rumours and I ended up with no friends. I remember a girl grabbing my hair and throwing me down near the door and slamming the door on my head. I remember the girls asking me questions about stuff I didn't know about because they thought it was funny when I was wrong or when I got nervous. When we played P.E, they said that I was a pig that smelt and that I was disgusting. My bullies are the reasons I have scars all over my body, I put them there. They are the reason I have attempted to take my life over 5 times. My pain has not made me stronger yet, I still have panic attacks, I can't talk to new people, I self harm, I have an eating disorder and I am severely depressed. Though, I am standing here and I am trying to make a difference for the people who no longer can. I am doing this for my seven year old brother who refused to eat his tea because the other kids called him fat, making him think there was something wrong with that. I am doing it for the people who need me, until I can do it for myself as well.