After years of switching schools, I arrived at a certain school about 4 years back. I was excited, naive, and happy. I knew no unhappiness, except for the occasional disappointment from my selfish half-brother who I would only see when he wanted money from my parents to go on a certain trip or for some new gadget he wanted to buy.

I began the year happily, I thrived, I enjoyed every minute in that school. The following year, at the same school, I started out strong. Then came January.

My parents had begun to fight. Doors would slam. My sister was oblivious, but sadly, I wasn't. The pain took a toll on my grades and they began to slip. As the year continued, I was put in a group with two other girls. Let's call them Melissa and Betty. I knew Melissa very well, but was intimidated by Betty. Betty was very loud, very outspoken, and a talented artist.

We had decided to do a project on female superheroes, and we began to draw all female superheroes, A to Z.

The first drawings I brought in, Betty always made up an excuse like, "Your drawings look 'ghetto' (what?)." or "They look too sketchy (isn't that what we're doing?.)" I began to get extremely frustrated because Melissa's work was "perfect", and of course Betty's was extraordinary.

The end of the project came, and I realized that none of the drawings were mine. None. Betty had thrown out all my sketches.

I wanted to scream. Claw her eyes out. But, I chose the higher road, researched all the information, and showed up to the presentation looking professional and fantastic. The night was a success, and our audience loved our presentation.

After that, the school year ended and we parted on a bittersweet note. I moved to another country for the next year, and came back the following.

To my surprise, rumors began surfacing about me and how I was such a b**ch. I wondered who it could come from. Then, I asked one of my (ex)best friends, Sara, who it might of been, and she replied, "Betty. She has been talking sh*t about you." 

I have a defect with my immune system, and it caused and causes me to get very sick very quickly and easily.

I had found out she had been mocking me.

I felt like the biggest idiot in the world. I was so oblivious to the hate fire she had been creating.

She called me a b**ch. To my face.

Told me to die.

Told me to go back to the other country, "Oh wait, never mind. No one likes you there either."

I felt so alone. 

All of my classmates sided with Betty, except for an angel named Juliana.

If it wasn't for Juliana, I don't think I would have survived the first semester. 

I still have the scars on my arms, but they're fading.

2nd semester

I found a notebook on the floor of my classroom.

I opened it.

It fell to the ground.

Inside, lay my name and horrible, terrible things said about who I was, what I did, how I lived.

To top it off, the owner of the notebook?

Sara.

Surviving the last few months of this h*ll is definitely difficult, but (most) of my family loves me, and I have Juliana.

Thanks for listening to my bullying story.