The Bullys

Three different people with three different stories the one thing they have in common Bullys and they are the target. Why? No one really knows but they can imagine.
The Bullied: Hanna, Kevin, Tammy
The Bullys: Jake, Religh, Sander
In this story I will tell the story of the bullied and the bully. And I can just hope that you will listen and speak out about this horrible topic called

BULLYING

No offence to anyone I am just putting my opinion about this topic out in public. It is a cruel and horrible thing that people have to know about. People have to make smart decisions and have to be heard.



































































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1. Hanna

  The Bullied

 Beep...Beep...Beep

 "Uggh," I said pushing snooze on my alarm clock,"I don't feel like going to school. I don't feel like being pushed down and my books scatering on the floor, and have no one there to help me. I don't feel like having people gossip about me and say things behind my back. I don't feel like having someone say nothing to me to my face untill the end of the day when off school property and everyone goes around me in a circle. I don't feel like being bullied today."

 "HANNA GET DOWN HERE NOW!" Hanna's adopted father screamed at the top of his lungs angerly like he did every morning.

 My mom and dad where not fit for me so I bounced house through house, family through family and never have had the love that I wanted. Yes I know I am lucky for having food on the table and a roof over my head and I should be happy, end of story. The thing is I am the one who puts that food on the table and the reason we have this roof over our heads I am sixteen and I work two full time jobs one after school from four p.m. to eleven p.m. And one on weekends five a.m. to twelve p.m. Also I usually have homework everyday and have to make supper for six people right before I leave. I hire a tutor for the kids so they can have help with there homework since I am never home. Because there father will not help him even if he could do any of that stuff. He dropped out of school the first chance he got and, it all went down hill from there. By the way I don't call my adopted father a fatherly name. I call him by his first name Jeff he has never been fatherly. In his eyes I am more of a maid and care taker around here. These kids would be lost without me. I know it.

 "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE. YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST COME IN HERE IGNORE ME AND WAKE UP WHENEVER YOU WANT. YOU HAVE TO MAKE BREAKFAST, LUNCH, AND SUPPER," he screamed.

"Yes sir please just don't get angry (like he wasn't all the time)", I said softly.

 He stormed off into his room like a two year old thats all he was. A big two year old that always complained and never listened. Oh well we won't have breakfast maybe the bus won't be late this time and we can eat at school we all hurried to the bus stop we lived in a beat up neighbourhood with houses that needed to be fixed up and the apartment complexes that seemed long forgotten. I was ready for the day of torture and when I got home to clean up the cuts from the four children that played to hard on the playground or got pushed down by the kids who thought that there was no one there just a piece of playground equiptment insted. I hopped on the bus and sat in the front seat with my little sister Juliet. So she would not be toarchered by other kindergarteners that love to bite arms and pull hair. I was at the doors of the high school halls where my day will begin with someone doing somthing to make my locker stuck somehow. Well... here I go.

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