My story began in the second grade. After I had skipped first grade for my ability to do complex mathematical equations, for a first grader at least, I became the target of Quashawn. Quashawn was a child from the seedy side of town, and who barely made it throguh his classes. So, because I was ahead of everyone in my classes, he called me "nerd" and "four eyes," as I had glasses. Then, it escalated to a point where he used curse words to describe me. "Bitch," "fag," "queer," and many others. Not only did he attack me with words, but he attacked me physically. He would hit me in the arm on the playground, push me down, and pull me off of the monkey bars. Once, he started to beat the living crap out of me, until a teacher and the AP broke it up. They said they would make him stop, but they never did. This continued on for uears, and it only got worse. There were many day where I feared going to school, which was unlike me, because I loved going to school and learning.

Fast forward to my fourth grade year, where he still made fun of me. He got more creative, and began to make fun of the fact that I was not atheletic, and that I was not the skinniest fourth grader in school. He kept this up, and an un ending assault of stepping on my foot in the cafeteria, and punching me in the head. One day, I had enough. So, when he began to punch me, I fought back. I stepped on his foot, and pushed him around. Then I screamed at the top of my lungs "Stop bullying me!" the enitre cafeteria went silent, and the principals rushed into the room. They took us both into their offices seperately, and got our sides of the story. In the end, they suspended Quashawn for 3 weeka for harassment and bullying. Life picked up.

Then I moved out of state, and started middle school. The bullies got worse, calling me worthless. A rumor had spread amoungst my seventh grade class that my best friend and I were both gay, and that we were dating. My best friend and I are two of the straightest guys you will meet, so we took it to the administrator. The girl who started it was out in ISS, and that stopped. The same year, a girl who I had the biggest crush on stopped talking to me and even looking at me. I asked my friend to get her opinion of me from her. She said "Will is creppy. He's a stalker." So, that rumor got around, and no girl would look at me, except for a few who were truely great friends. That girl still hates my guts in ninth grade.

Towards the end of eighth grade, I was in the gym locker room getting changed. I was the only one in there, and two guys walked in. One of them was showing the other a huge knife from inside their gym bag. I saw it, and was paralyzed with fear. He stuck the blade towards me and said "You won't tell anyone will you?" I shook my head no, and walked out. I told my mom, who was a teacher at the school, and she told the principal. They found the knife, and suspended the kid for ten days. Because I got their friend suspended, his friends, all of the jocks, began to humiliate me infront of my gym class. They would call me "fag" and pull my pants down, to where they would show my underpants, and sometimes even my buttock. So, they were reported and they simmered down. After middle school, no one bullied me, and life is great. I still wish that the girl would take back what she said, calling me a stalker. The funny thing was, is that she liked me alot too. She was always smiling and basically flirting with me in the after school club "TSA." I almost asked herout, but that ship has sailed. If I were to give someone advice on how to deal with bullies, it wiuld be to never ket your voice go un noticed, and to always stand up for those who can't stand up for themselves. Peace out guys! 

Live long and prosper

-Will Boyce