Remember Me.

One more story about bullying. Hope you enjoy.


3. Science.

The bell rings, signalling the end of Study Hall. I make my way to my locker to get my stuff for science. I brace myself for any kind of notes on my locker. None. Thank God. I enter my combination and my lock clicks open. I toss my extra work in my locker and grab my science book. I slide the lock back on. I start my way towards class. Nothing's happening to me. I don't know why though. I wait for something bad to happen, then continue my walk to class. I push through the door and slide into my desk, three minutes before the bell rings. Only a couple of people are in the classroom, so I decide to go get a drink. I wait my turn and when I reach the fountain, I take three refreshing sips of cold water. I turn around and Katie is standing there. 

"Not you again.." I mumble.

"What?" she asks. She heard what I said, she just wants to hear it again. 

"Sorry, nothing, nevermind," I whisper. I put my head down and walk away. Katie calls my name, so I turn around, not wanting to make her even more mad. She spits water at me. Water drips off my face and bangs onto my clothes. I gasp and everyone around laughs. I sprint into the bathroom, humiliated. I shuffle into a stall and lock the door. I sink down on the toilet and let a couple of tears out. The bell rings, but I don't care.

After a few minutes, I allow myself to get up and look at my reflection. My mascara has dripped down my face, leaving black lines sprawled across my cheekbones. My eyes are red. I didn't think I was crying that much.. I mean, all she did was spit a little water. Then, I realize that this happens everyday, well similar things to this, at least. I stare at myself in the mirror for a while longer, wondering why people don't like me. I search for imperfections. I find some, but lots of people have imperfections. Everyone does actually, so why am I the one who gets called out on them?

I turn the cold metallic handle on the sink. Water falls from the faucet. It reminds me of the way tears pour out of my eyes every night. How everyday, when I get home, I plug into my music and plug out of the rest of the world. I sit in my room or go in my backyard. I have no one to hang out with, no shoulder to cry on, nobody to tell secrets to, no one to laugh and giggle over boys and gossip with. Everything before I started being bullied is a blur. It's gone on for so long that I'm just used to it. I realize that the water has been running for a while now, but I forgot why I turned it on. I look up at the mirror and realize it was to wipe my mascara off. I grab a paper towel, ball it up, and let a little water run on it. I dab at my mascara until the marks are gone and my face looks just how it did earlier. I throw the balled up mess away and turn off the water. I'm dreading this, but I realize I have to go back to class sooner or later. I drag my feet all the way there. I knock on the door to the class and I hear somebody say something.

"Oh great, it must be Lily. I'm surprised she decided to even come back to class."

"Hey! That's not appropriate behavior for school," Mr. Branson snaps. Still waiting for the door to open, I question my decision about coming to class. It was too late, because Mr. Branson opens the door, grinning. "Hi Lily, where have you been?" he asks.

"Umm, I was just feeling a little sick," I lie. I look down and put on an apologetic face.

"It's fine, I understand." I awkwardly shuffle to my desk. I look up, and Katie is staring at me. She grins when she notices I'm looking at her. I quickly duck my head back down. I reach my desk and quietly sink down in it. I open my book to the page that's written on the board. I see a folded up paper, and quietly start to unravel it. It says "Seriously, why do you even come to school? No one likes you. Really. Ask anyone in this classroom and they'd say they hate you. You're ugly and annoying. You try to act cool, and just FYI, it doesn't work. I hope you learn someday. -Katie.<3" I snap my head up and look at her. She turns around to look at me. Her facial expression says, "well, it's true." I was starting to believe it was too.

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