Alive? Or Just Breathing?

For a while, Scarlett has been depressed. It started in Year 7 when Claire, her ever-changing boyfriends and her followers started bullying her. Scarlett has know for a while it is bullying, but doesn't know what to do about it. Can Drama and the new teacher, Miss Talbott help?


3. Chapter Three

Lessons the rest of the week were a nightmare. Claire and her followers were everywhere, shoving me in the lunch queue, catching up with me the minute classes let out to bully me a bit more before the next lesson, and worst of all, hiding behind my locker door when I was getting something from it. Every. Single. Time.


Of course, I know it's bullying. I mean, really, it's kinda obvious. In Primary, I always said that I was someone who could spot bullying, and would go straight to a teacher about it. I was half right. I spotted the bullying, but haven't gone to anyone about it. It's sort of hard when you believe all the things they say, and have for a while. If you think you're good at something, then someone tells you you are, it's easy to believe them. It's the same for bad things. At the end of Year 6, everyone separated into the groups they were going to Secondary School with. Most of my friends were going to one school, the few others going to other schools, and a small number of people that I hadn't talked to much, were going to my school. I was torn all the time. Most of my friends went everywhere with their new school friends, and the others sort of let me into their group when I asked. Not easy to feel liked. I started thinking that maybe it was my fault, that I had something wrong with me. I still believe that's the reason they all kept away. It was only proved to me in Year 7 though, when no one would talk to me, and everyone who went to my Primary School completely ignored me, or pretended they never knew me. It was awful.


Claire singled me out within the first few months, and has never left me alone since. I suppose I brought it on myself, but I can't help thinking, that maybe it was fate, that I was never meant to be happy, that I was always going to be the target. If it is fate, then everyone's taking advantage of it. I've been shot through the heart more times than I can count.


When I got home each night, I had to act happy, and not let my parents know what was happening. It's always the same story, girl gets bullied at school, goes home and has to be happy, has to hide it from her parents, too scared to tell anyone...



I hate myself more than anything else in the world, and it's not like Oh, I'm so fat I hate myself, what on earth are my friends/boyfriend/instagram followers etc. going to say? I actually hate myself. Most nights I will lie awake and cry, curled up, with the crushing weight of my uselessness bearing down on me. I don't even know how to describe it. There is no point to me living. No point at all. I start thinking of children's books and the girls in them. I think of Anne from the Famous Five. She was brave enough to go on adventures with her brothers and cousin, and was kind and caring. Then there's me, terrified of the dark and being bullied, with my kind nature just an act I have to put on at home. I think of Hermione in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. She made her parents think that they didn't have a daughter, and sent them to another country to start a new life. Why can't I make everyone forget about me? Why can't I make it like I don't exist so I could go and kill myself quietly somewhere? I'm a pathetic, attention-seeking coward, and I don't deny it. But I wish I could eradicate myself, so I don't need to inflict the pain upon anyone else.


Because no one deserves to have me as a friend, relation or even to know me. How many times do I need to repeat it before people realise and help me on my way to hell?


I. Hate. Myself.

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