When I was in elementary, I never really got the concept of what a bully was. Back then, I witnessed bullying frequently, now that I think about it. I finally, truly understood what bullying was when it happened to me in fifth grade. Fifth grade was a crazy, messed up year for me because that year my father's workplace that he was going to buy burned down. With this happening, my whole family's lives were thrown into chaos. To save money my family passed out hand-me-downs, which caused the other kids at my school to pick on me and tease me. Through out the whole time of me being bullied I kept a journal, which I wrote out my thoughts in. One day I left the classroom during indoor recess and came back to find a boy holding my journal and reading it out loud. He refused to give it back to me even after I begged and pleaded. Once he gave it back to me, he had already read the whole thing aloud and torn up the pages. After that, I experienced bullying almost every day with everyone teasing me about my journal and hand-me-down clothing. Later on, in middle school, it only got worse. Name calling followed me around everywhere I went. I couldn't bare it anymore, and I felt hopeless. The bullying seemed to ease up after eighth grade when I finally trusted a person enough to call them my friend. Even after making more friendships, the words people called me still stick with me to this day. I'm self-concious and feel insecure, all because of what those bullies said to me.