A real story... My story.

Grade 3

As we go up in the world of school and get closer to the great grade six, where we are the rulers of the school I enter grade 3.

In this grade nothing much has changed except the amount of friends I have accumulated. Now I have Kass, Rebeca,  Emma, Jocyln, Emily, and other people that I can't remember. Like alwasy people started liking each other and relatonships formed and deminished taring people apart. Me? noway I was still the fat kid remember. No one liked me, heck no one even noticed me I was the one to follow people around and just pretend to play with them. After awhile of doing that though I gave up and just sat around waiting for someone to notice me. \as you guessed it they never did.

Through that year I had like one guy called Brad but he never knew. And the worst part of it was that Emma was like a sister to him and I told her and she laughed as did my brother when he looked in my diary with his best friend asfter he picked those cheep locks with a pair of sissors.

Now I have a huge ass lock on my journal and a huge as metal box locked around it.

I never really gave up on my crush but I always knew it would never happen as I was the shy fat kid. Through that year I thought things were getting better as I would be with other people and they would only notice me if we were playing tag or four square since you need four people for that. I really hated that game though, but I only played it because my friends were. Still following was the only way I knew how to live. 

That year Emma was pissing me off as she made fun of me with my so called "other friends" and they would always laugh with her. I pretended not to get hurt but sticks and stones will break my bones but words will nnever hurt me right? Ya right when words break your heart and it crumbles you can't tell me that that hurts less.

We used to have school wide volly ball tournaments and I wasn't into sports but I still joined a group of my "friends" after I wasn't there for the first day because I got sick well they kicked me off the team. It's not like I could have done anything for the team anyway, but they replaced me with a jerk, that's right a guy in an all girls group. The nam eof that group I couldn't remember but when I saw that my name was scratched off the posters around the school and his name was written under it.. That stung. when I confroted them they pushed their palms in my face and turned around and started laughing on the way to the gym for their second game.

I tried getting back in there and for the last game I did, it was against my brothers team, they kicked our asses I was the last one left and they ganged up on me hitting me with about 6 balls at once. After the game the group blamed me for our loose... Or my loose, I'm not sure which. We got to class Emma had turned everyone against me and left me. I broke down I couldn't go into class I sat back against the wall in the hall way with my big black hoodie on and the hood covering a lot of my face and my knees were held up to my chest. I cried as teachers tried to talk to me. they said I had to go to class.

I just wanted too be alone as they pestered me very meanly might I add, they wouldn't except that I wasn't going to class. But yet I still did because that's what they told me to do. I sat at my desk in the dark class room as people kept asking me if I was okay and i tried my best to hold back my tears but they did not stop.

the worst part is that the teacher made me take off my hood, it was a good thing I had loong hair, as I put my head against the desk and continued crying for everyone to hear. The teachers didn't even care why I was crying as long as they get paid right?

 Well the next day Emma comes up to me and says sorry. Sorry? what the hell will that 5 letter word do ever for this world it's not like wars can be stopped just because someone says sorry. Yet i forgave her because my heart wasn't hurt enough I still had hope that it would get better and things would go back to the way they were before. So I went along with her.

I had told my mom a lot of this stuff but not all of it because I knew she would turn it around and say it was my fault, so everytime I would tell her something I would spend atleast 2 hours thinking about it before I did. It never helped she would always turn it on me some how and say it was my fault that things like that happened to me, that never helped the situation I was in. Many tears were shed that year and no one saw them but me and my teddy bear.