Not so number one

Hi my name is Hannah and I get bullied, a lot. I'm still trying to understand why. I mean, I think I treat people right, and never bullied anyone else. Yet Harry and his friends seem to think it's cute or funny or what ever to bully me. I want them to stop hurting me. I want them to stop calling me names. I want them to stop embarrassing me. But mostly... I want them to stop avoiding an answer.


1. Prologue

Hi my name is Hannah, I'm sixteen and I get bullied, a lot. I don't know why. In fact, life used to be great until seventh grade. I had a boyfriend, I had friends and was actually pretty popular. I have no idea what happened. The people at my school seemed really nice til then. They were all my friends until that year. I ask my self everyday what I did wrong. Am I too fat? Am I too ugly? Am I not good enough? Was I mean to other people? I though I was skinny, and nice and pretty. But I guess I wasn't enough of those things for anyone's likings. Now, no one wants to sit with me, no one wants to talk to me, on one wants to work with me. Especially Harry and his friends. They seem to get a real kick out of my pain. They put me through both physical and emotional pain. I just want to escape for one day, one day is all I ask. I try to tell them and they don't listen at all. They just hit me or call me names or tell me to go kill myself or something. I have had enough form the five devils sent from hell. I want to do something about it but i can't. I tough it out at least until I get home, which isn't so great right now either. I don't exactly have a home right now. That goes back to seventh grade as well. Once I started to get bullied, I came home everyday crying. My parents reassured me everything was going to be fine. It never was. Everyday the bullying  got worse, and life became more of a living hell. As the months went on so did the bullying and I became depressed. I stopped eating and started cutting myself. My parents at that point became very worried and got me a councilor. I had a new one every month because the one before did nothing to help me. My parents started to monitor me to make sure I was eating and not cutting myself whenever they could. But they never had time to really look after me. So I became worse. My parents were running out of ideas and on top of it all, my dad lost his job. I was too much to handle for my parents at that point so they put me in foster care. As soon as I was put in, everyone at school knew about it. So they had one more reason to bully me. I stay two weeks, three if I'm lucky at each home. Mostly because I'm " too much trouble" or " too emotional" or what ever the excuse was to get me out of their house. I'm in a pretty good home right now so life isn't completely hell, but who knows how long I'll be here. I'm Hannah, and this is my story.

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