Dear bully, I Hate You

Chapter 6.

Dear bully,

I had to walk to school again today. I've been walking to school a lot.

Ever since you took my bike.

Sometimes you pass me on the way to school in your car with your girlfriend and your friends.

You all mocked me.

Calling me horrid names.

Pig, elephant, slut, whore, bitch, piece of ass, fat ass, bastard, asshole, shit face, dickwad, dweeb, nerd, cocksucker, blubber...

Then you guys play a little game.

A game you invented.

Whoever hits me with the most garbage gets a prize.

I don't know what prize you'd reward them with but they get all excited

Then a crumpled empty cheetos pack would hit me.

An empty diet coke bottle.

An empty soda pop tin.

A balled piece of bubble gum wrapper.

Bended straws.

Someone would toss peanuts at me.

A m&m would bounce off my nose.

Jello would land in my hair.

I don't even know who would take raw eggs to school! Was that really just for me?

This would happen until we got to school.

The whole while you would be laughing as you drove slow besides me.

Slow enough so your friends could taunt.

You sure know how to have fun.

If you don't hear the sarcasm in my voice then you're stupid.

Like literally.

I had to go to girls room to clean myself up before class like I do everyday but it doesn't stop me from smelling like tuna. Yeah, that tuna sandwich you've had in your car since god knows when, the one you gave your friend to throw at me. I smell like a walking garbage can. Garbage can. That right's. I remember now.

Don't you.

It happened once.

Rememberrrrrrr.

That time in ninth grade.

You and your best friend lifted me up in front of the whole school when I had gotten up to throw away my chocolate wrapper. We were in the caferteria. You guys dunked me head deep into the garbage can.

I could bet it made an halirious picture.

Me.

In a garbage can.

Head deep.

My feet kicking up.

I hadn't worn jeans that day.

How unfortunate.

The one day I choose not to wear jeans.

You do that to me.

I remember hearding the laughter that filled the room.

Everyone was probably staring at my pink frilly underwear.

It was rather childish.

That was the day I realized how much I hated you.

How much I hated your popularity.

How much I hated rich your father was.

I hated that school literally. I hated that school for letting you get away with anything just because of your father's money.

I hated the teachers who turned a blind eye.

Of course no one would pity the poor girl whose bare thighs were exposed for all to see.

No one care.

Because of you.

Oh, god, I hate you!