My story

This is my story... It isn't a particularly happy story, but it's mine. I will admit that there are parts of my story that I can't remember properly, there are some parts of my story that is difficult to write about. But my story is a humble and honest one.
You can judge me for my actions and decisions, but please do not tell me that I'm lying or exaggerating... No part of my story that I have to tell you is a lie or an exaggeration. It's true what they say, "We regret the things we didn't do more than the thing we did do." This will tell you more about me than just reading some of my fictional books....
This book is to warn you of the dangers of bullying and saying the wrong things, things that could damage and hurt someone without you knowing it.


5. The pain over the years

Okay, you know that I moved around a lot, I move almost every few years. It was difficult for me to move houses and schools all the time. Mainly because I really only had one friend, she was a bit fake but she was my friend none the less. She was the only person I can talk to about anything and we could laugh about it.

But sometimes life is a bitch.

There's no denying that.

When I moved I was always struggled to make new friends and to keep up with my school work. I was failing in areas such as English and math. Back in primary I absolutely hated both of those subjects, but now I love them more than my own father......

oooooooo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ bbbbuuuurrrrrnnnn~~~

Anyways, because I always wore black rimmed glasses and was the introverted child in the corner I was picked on. My friend and I were harassed about the quality of our clothes, mine were bought second hand and I didn't care to be honest. My friend, however, did care. She completely changed, her personality changed as soon as she realised just how 'lame' I was. So of course, like the idiot I was, I left it thinking it might have been something I said that made her hate me.


I guess after a few beatings, I realised that what my friend was feeling was shame, shame that she was friends with me, that she ever talked to me, that she ever hung out with me. I never could blame her for any of it, it just isn't who I am. After a couple years of being tortured by her and her new group of 'friends', I left and moved schools.

At the time, I won't lie, I thought I was free from all the torment that I had to endure.

Eventually, meaning about a month after I moved to a new school, people started to notice how weird I looked compared to them. They all called me a witch because I have green eyes that change colour, from green to grey to blue. Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking, no I never wore contacts, they freak the fuck out of me. I never want anything like that near my eyes. I am too dependent on my sight to risk it. They bullied me because my skin was apparently too fair for an Aboriginal person... (For any Indigenous people reading this and feel offended, I am truly sorry for all the idiots out there.... including myself.... lol I'm kind of not joking.)

Anyways, because I was being bullied once again about my appearance, I never really made any friends at that school. The boys hit me and the girls gossiped about me and spread rumours about me that were obviously not true. So you can see why no one really wanted to be my friend, they would have been hurt by associating with me. I could understand that, but being bullied and no one caring made me fall into a deep depression and I now have chronic anxiety that no medication can stop.

Being bullied and having no one to talk about it, made me cold and distant to the whole of the human population which was fine by me. Even at a young age I learned not to trust someone who wants to become my friend so badly. I have problems trying to talk to anyone, trying to communicate anything that I feel. Eventually I found my passion for books and writing, and I've been getting better ever since.

Why need people when you have books?


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